The Patron Saints of Liars and Fakes
by tjmack
Summary: Shawn always thought the worst day of his life would be the day his secret came out. Well Shawn is about learn the true definition of a bad day.
1. Chapter 1

**So. Story #1 in a series that I have named: Trust Is Earned. I'm hoping for at least 3 whole stories for this one. Well see how it goes. Thanks goes out to my awesome beta, Susannanass. **

* * *

Shawn could feel the heat radiating his way. One look at his father's almost purple face told him he's in trouble. Actually, the fact that Henry had grabbed him by the arm and practically yanked him in the direction of the interrogation room was all the proof he needed that his father was angry. Though Shawn typically could remember whatever it was that had pissed his father off, he was coming up blank this time. This wasn't right; he always knew what he had done wrong…even if he played it off as if he didn't, more often than not.

Henry was pacing the room, four steps up and four steps to the down. A back and forth, continuous motion. It was unnerving to Shawn, but it calmed Henry. Which was exactly what he needed. To calm down, and have a rational conversation with his idiot son. Two weeks he had been helping the SBPD try to nail Holden Marshall for murder one. They all knew that Holden had killed his business partner. However, knowing that he did it and having proof that he did it were too totally different things. Two things that his son did not understand. Well that, and the fact that Shawn had no perception of danger.

"Look, dad, if you're not gonna explain your sudden urge to permanently bruise my bicep, then I'm leaving."

Henry's heavy footfalls stopped, as he spun around to glare at his son. The boy was sharp as a tack, had an unfailing photographic memory, and the ability to pick up things that most people couldn't. Yet he did lack the ability to understand that what Henry had to say was important.

"First off, I did not bruise you. Second of all, Shawn…this has to stop. Holden Marshall is very dangerous and highly intelligent. You have to stop playing the psychic, and start actually getting to work on this. You've yet to actually get any proof that Holden did it-"

Shawn held up his hand, momentarily forgetting where he was. "You know what, dad? Playing 'psychic' is how I earn my living. Do you think Chief Vick would let me within ten feet of a crime scene if she knew the truth? Yeah, I have photographic memory and the perception of what could be considered a Greek god, but none of that matters if she ever finds out that I've been faking this entire time!" Shawn's voice raised a couple of octaves, before remembering where he was.

"Shawn-"

"You know, dad. It's real nice of you to bring this up in the station like this. Do you know how often officers walk past the interrogation rooms? You should, you work here-"

The door behind the two of them flew open. Standing just outside the door jam was Lassiter, his arms folded over his chest and almost permanent scowl on his face. Slightly behind him was Juliet, tears in her eyes and a hand placed over her mouth.

"What's up, Lassie? You like the play me and my dad are putting together-"

Lassiter held up a hand. "Can it, Spencer. We need to talk to the chief. Now!"

He turned around and quickly disappeared. Juliet stood, frozen, staring at Shawn with her mouth now agape.

"Jules."

She slowly shook her head. "Tell me it's a sick joke. Tell me it's not true. Shawn..."

Her eyes were pleading with him, as her fingers brushed against her wedding band.

"I'm so sorry-"

Before any other words could leave his mouth, she hastily turned and ran back the way she had came. Shawn turned back toward his father, tears glistening against his eyes. "Thank you, dad." Shawn's head hung as he walked back out of the interrogation room.

Henry followed closely behind him. He couldn't say that he didn't feel bad, because he did. Shawn had finally found something that made him happy, and though Henry would never admit it, it made him proud. He just hoped Shawn didn't do something stupid, like Shawn had in the past.

* * *

As Shawn neared the chief's office, he could hear Lassiter practically screaming at Vick. The closer he got, the more he could make out. Finally, he could see through a slit in one of the blinds. Lassiter's arms were flailing about, like crazy. Taking a deep breath, Shawn walked through the door. Everything stopped immediately. Lassiter's hands, that had been mid-air when Shawn walked in, dropped limply to his sides. Juliet stared at him wide-eyed, and Vick had her hands placed firmly on her hips.

Shawn knew there was no way to joke or even lie his way out of this. He had known that this would eventually happen. He had been kidding himself if he thought he could keep the charade up forever, especially after he had fallen in love with Juliet.

"Mr. Spencer, would you care to explain what my head detective is telling me?" Her eyebrow rose slightly.

Sighing, Shawn ran a hand over his mouth. His eyes downcast as he spoke, "I believe, Carlton overheard a conversation with my father and myself." Shawn's voice was merely above a whisper. He heard as everyone inside the room gasped and stared at him in uncertainty.

"So, what Detective Lassiter told me is true then?"

Shawn picked up on Vick's tone. It wasn't shock or even anger, which is what he had expected. It was more of an indifference, like she had been expecting it to happen.

"Yes."

Shawn felt Lassiter take a step toward him, and for the first time Shawn was afraid that the gun-wielding detective would actually take a shot at him.

"What are you saying yes to, Spencer? I want to hear you say it." Lassiter's eyes gleamed with a newfound unhappiness that Shawn didn't even think was possible.

His eyes flickered toward Juliet, her face displaying a look of utter devastation.

"I can't," Shawn muttered. His eyes still trained on Juliet, who started to squirm slightly.

"I don't care, Spencer. I want to hear it, and I'm sure your wife needs to hear it."

Sighing, shuffling back and forth on his feet. "Fine. I'm not really psychic." Shawn could feel his anger starting to bubble back up. How dare Lassiter make him utter those words in front of Juliet? What was it to him?

Shawn could feel his hand clenching and unclenching into fists. Turning toward Lassiter, Shawn stared at him. "How dare you!"

Lassiter jumped in surprise, before scowling at Shawn. "How dare I? How dare you! Waltzing into this precinct, pretending to be something your not. Lying to everyone in front of you! Living behind a false front! What in the name of sweet lady justice were you thinking, Spencer?" Lassiter poked Shawn in the chest with his finger as if it was the exclamation point on the end of his sentence.

"What was I thinking? I was thinking that I was helping the police out. I was thinking that you tried to arrest me, and that the only thing I could think of to make you believe me was to tell you I was psychic. Then Chief Vick told me if she found out I was lying that she'd have me thrown in jail. So gee, Lassie, what do you think I was thinking? What concern is it to you if I was lying or not? I got results! That's all that should matter. It shouldn't matter if I'm psychic or not. All that should matter is that I figured out who was good and bad, and I added some much needed flair onto the whole revealing process-"

"Okay, both of you! That's about enough. Mr. Spencer, I don't care why you did it. Good reasoning or not, what you've done is considered a crime. I cannot overlook that. I need you to step outside my office and sit down nice and quiet in one of the chairs. You will wait until I come out to talk to you, do you understand me?"

Shawn sighed, "Yes."

"Good, go."

Stealing one last glance at Juliet, who was in the process of removing her wedding band, Shawn sulked out into the waiting area. Sliding down into one of the seats, his head fell into his hands.

"So, what'd she say?"

Henry's gruff voice, grated on his nerves. Shawn's head flew up, but he knew better than to raise his voice. He was already in a world of trouble, and didn't need to add to it. Glaring at his father, he made sure to keep his voice low.

"What do you think, Dad? She gave me a lollipop and sent me on my way!"

"Shawn..." Henry was using his warning tone.

"No, dad. You don't get to use that tone with me. This was your stupid mistake! You know, one of those things you don't think you ever make. Yeah, well you just made one. By the way, dad, you ruined my life in the process! Did I mention that my wife was taking off her wedding ring as, I left the chief's office like a scolded little puppy? So thanks, for that, dad."

Henry ran a hand over his face. "I'll go in there, talk on your behalf..." Henry didn't wait for an answer. He simply shoved the door open, and closed it behind himself.

* * *

Shawn felt like he had been sitting in that chair forever. In fact, his ass had fallen numb, as had his hand that was constantly balled into a fist. How could his dad do something like that? Something so stupid…to call him on his fakeness in a place where someone could catch them.

"Shawn!" Gus appeared almost as if from nowhere, but Shawn couldn't focus. All he could see was Jules looking at him like he was the biggest monster ever created. "Juliet called me. She said it was important, and involved everyone...oh god, what happened?"

Gus knelt down in front of Shawn; obvious tear streaks were still damp on his cheeks. Gus wasn't even sure that Shawn was aware that they had fallen.

"I'm going to lose her, Gus. She's going to leave me." Shawn's voice was weak as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. His fingers were constantly twirling his wedding band around his finger.

"Shawn," Gus started, but the door to the chief's office flew open.

Henry stormed out, before turning back to face the other three people that had stayed behind. "You're making a big mistake." Without a passing glance, Henry Spencer stormed out of the police station.

Taking a deep breath, Shawn stood up and walked toward the open door.

"Mr. Spencer and Mr. Guster, please come inside."

Shawn's head hung as he entered the room. Gus looked around the room, confusion evident on his features.

"Mr. Spencer, what you've done is a crime-"

Shawn's head snapped up. This sounded like a repeat from earlier, and he just couldn't take listening to it all over again. "Yeah, can we skip over the recap? I'd really like to go home."

Chief Vick simply shook her head in acknowledgment as a, sadness overtook her features. "As of-" She paused, looking at her watch. "11:15 am, on Thursday, October 17th…you, Shawn Spencer and you, Burton Guster, are no longer consultants for the Santa Barbara Police Department. I will have an officer escort you off the premises..."

Shawn just stared at her, no surprise on his face. He knew it was coming, hell he knew it would eventually come the moment he said it. Not only had he lied to the police, but he had been lying to himself and Gus for years. Never once did he actually believe that he could keep his secret forever.

Gus's face, on the other hand, was not only shocked but confused and angry. His mouth bobbed open to say something, when the chief threw up a hand to silence him.

"I'm not finished-" She spoke directly to Gus, before turning her attention back to Shawn. "Shawn, I can't say that I'm surprised, because I'm not. I had a feeling for a really long time, but I never said anything. I personally didn't care, as long as you continued getting results. However, now that it's known... I have to report it, Shawn. I'm truly sorry about that. I will personally do whatever I can to keep you out of jail-"

Shawn simply shook his head. He could feel fresh tears well into his eyes, and he really just wanted to go home and get drunk. "Thanks. Can I go now?"

Vick noticed the look in his eyes. That look of a caged animal, begging to be let free. She shook her head, and watched in sadness as Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster walked out of her office for the very last time.

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**You know you wanna review. You know you wanna hit that button. Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it! **


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: It is that time, ladies and gents! It's the weekend, which means, updating this story. Once again, big thanks to Susannanass for being a totally awesome and prompt beta. **_

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Shawn stalked quickly to his motorcycle. Glaring at Gus, he felt bad. It wasn't his best friend's fault that his father couldn't keep his big fat trap shut. Sighing, Shawn motioned with his head for Gus to come over. He offered his best friend a small smile, but it was all wrong. It didn't reach his eyes, and the light that usually lit his hazel eyes afire was gone. Depression was slowly starting to sink in, and truth be told, Shawn was fighting the urge to run. That was what he usually did in this situation, and quite frankly only two things were stopping him. His best friend needed him in case any of this blew back on him, and he could never just up and leave his wife like that. Even if at that very moment she was regretting that very decision.

"I'm sorry, buddy. I never meant for this to happen-"

Gus held up a hand, his face solemn. Shawn saw the struggle Gus was losing with the tears that were built up in his eyes. "It's not your fault, Shawn. Well—technically it is—but this particular problem isn't. I should be apologizing-"

Shawn patted his friend on the back. "It's okay, Gus. I'm not going anywhere." Shawn smiled sadly, and winked at Gus. "I can't leave my best buddy hanging like that."

Shawn sighed, he could feel the hot tears press against his eyes. Closing them tightly for a moment, Shawn rubbed at them until they burned. "Look I gotta go. You know—get that case information back to the chief and whatnot. We'll hang out later though. I'll call you."

Shawn quickly turned on his heel, strapping his helmet in place before straddling his bike. Cranking the key over brought the machine to life underneath him. The bike vibrated through his body, and it brought back that familiar urge to run. Biting his lip, Shawn shoved the feeling to the back of his mind. No matter how badly he might want to leave, he couldn't. Yanking back on the throttle, Shawn took off down the road. With no second glance in the mirror, he was off speeding down the streets of Santa Barbara. However, his eyes missed Juliet running down the steps, with tears in her eyes.

* * *

Juliet climbed into the front seat of her green VW Beetle. Tears rushed down her cheeks, as her hands balled into fists. How could he have lied to her for so long? What kind of detective did that make her, to believe him so easily? So freely. At least Carlton and the chief had their doubts. Not her, she was just so willing to believe him. Anger boiled just under her skin, she knew her face was red. Lifting her fists up she hit them against the steering wheel multiple times before leaning her head against it.

Sighing, Juliet used a hand to wipe at her cheeks. God, she was such an idiot. To fall all over Shawn like that. To fall for every ounce of complete and utter bullshit he fed her. Growling lightly, she started her car and drove off toward their apartment, and for his personal welfare he had better not be there.

* * *

Shawn fumbled with the keys to the front door. Once he unlocked it, he pushed it open. Groaning, he slammed it shut. A quick glance at his watch told him he had at least two hours of time before Juliet's lunch break. Yanking his jacket off, he threw it in the direction of his lounge chair. Shawn then proceeded to kick off his shoes.

His thoughts were moving quicker than he could process them. Shawn had a few choices in front of him. The first choice was to run. To pack necessities, and hop on his bike and leave. Gus would understand, he knew the inner workings of Shawn's mind. His father—well who really cared? This was all his fault, so Shawn really didn't care if he fell off the face of the Earth right now. He shook his head, he couldn't run. Even if Gus would understand, he couldn't do that to him—or Jules. She was angry at him right now, but eventually—hopefully that would pass.

Shawn gulped, that left two options. Sit back and wait, which is probably what he should do, or make amends. If he could find proof that Holden committed the murder—not if—he would find the proof, because the scumbag did it, he could make amends with Jules and Lassie.

Nodding his head, that's what he was going to do! He was going to go find his proof, and he was going to go tell Jules and Lassie. A small smile slipped onto his face, as he slunk toward the bedroom. First, he was going to shower and change, because he currently smelt of failure and hatred.

* * *

Juliet walked down the short hallway to their apartment. His motorcycle was parked out front. So either he didn't play the smart card and came home, or he dropped off his bike and went somewhere with Gus. At this point she was seriously hoping for option number two. Her anger had quelled quite a bit, and Juliet knew that seeing Shawn would only bring it back to the forefront.

Shoving her key into the lock, she twisted and let herself in. His shoes lay haphazardly on the floor, his jacket was thrown to the floor, and in a long trail to the bathroom was his clothing. Not that coming home to this was unusual, but for someone who was in a great deal of trouble, you'd think he'd try just a little bit harder.

The sound of the shower running caught her attention, and she cursed lightly. Well, she wasn't going to let Shawn run her out of her own apartment. They could be in the same general area without killing each other—or better yet, she could be near him without killing him.

She sighed, well to be on the safe side. Juliet slipped off her heels, and slide them aside, before removing her gun and walking over to the safe she kept it locked in. There, now there was nothing within easy access that she could murder that lying bastard with.

Juliet's ears perked when she heard the water turn off and knew he'd be coming out of the bathroom in a matter of minutes. She waited, hands firmly on her hips and toes tapping the floor. Soon enough the door slid open, and wet footfalls could be heard on the hardwood floor.

He came around the corner, and found her standing there. Her eyes went from annoyed to angry mixed with something else. Backing up, his eyes glanced her over just in case she decided to become Lassie for a moment and shoot him.

"Jules." His hands were in the air as if he was begging for his life.

All Juliet could see however was how the towel was slung around his hips, and the water that dripped down his chest. God, she should be furious! She was furious—but in the moment all she wanted was _**him**_.

Slowly moving forward, Juliet couldn't stop herself. She grinned when his back found the wall. She stepped in front of him, her finger ran down his chest, chasing after a water droplet. When she caught it, she brought her finger to her lips and licked the water off.

Shawn moaned, his eyes closed when he felt her lips on his chest. Juliet shoved him flush against the wall, as her nails raked across his chest. His eyes shot up just as her lips shoved against his. There was nothing passionate about the kiss, it was hungry and angry. That didn't stop Shawn from reacting, as he lifted Juliet up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. Quickly he carried her to the bedroom, managing to close the door with his foot.

* * *

Juliet flung the blankets off her body, and swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stood up. Quickly throwing on her clothes, she stormed out of the room.

Shawn stared after her in disbelief. "Okay. Weird." He sighed, as he too got up from the bed. Throwing on the closest clothing he could find, Shawn stalked off after her. He knew that this would come eventually, he had just hoped it could have waited until he had found the proof to put Holden behind bars.

"Jules!" Shawn yelled down the hall.

"Just leave me alone, Shawn." her voice was weak, and was coming from the bathroom.

Turning quickly, Shawn walked into the small bathroom. He found Juliet sitting on the floor, her back to the tub and her knees were drawn up to her chest.

"Juliet." His voice was soft and husky, as he made a move to sit on the floor too.

"Shawn-" She looked up at him, as tears cascaded down her cheeks. God, she was so weak! "I can't do this with you. Not now-"

"Are you ever going to be able to?" His words came out slightly harsher than he had meant them to. He was the one that had chosen to lie, and she was the one that if she so choose to, would have to live with it. So why was he getting angry with her?

"I don't know, Shawn. You don't know how badly I want to say yes. That eventually this pain—this betrayal I feel, will just go away. I want that so badly, Shawn. You're my husband, and I promised to love you through everything, but lying to me? Shawn, I didn't sign up for that!"

Shawn drew his knees up to his chest and closed his eyes. He fought off the urge to rock back and forth. The one thing that had brought him comfort when his parents used to fight. He shook his head, what in the world was he thinking getting married. He watched as his parents marriage imploded right in front of his face. Why should he think that his own would be any different?

"Do you still love me?" His voice was weak, as he glanced in her direction, barely aware of the tears that were building up inside them.

"Yes. I just don't know if that's enough anymore, Shawn."

He shook his head. "That's okay. I'll just go stay with Gus." He couldn't take it anymore. It felt like the bathroom walls were closing in around him. His body was shaking as he all but ran down the hall, grabbing his jacket from the floor before sliding his feet into his shoes. Snagging his keys, he walked out the door, and let it slam behind him.

* * *

Shawn guided his bike away from his shared residence with Juliet, and toward the Psych office. He kept extra clothes there in case he needed them. He realized after he stormed out of the apartment that he hadn't packed up any clothes to wear while staying with Gus. A quick stop off at the Psych office to grab some clothes, maybe look over the Holden case once more, then he'd head off for Gus's place. He knew his best buddy wouldn't mind him staying with him for a while. Hell, he knew Gus would do anything to keep him from running.

Shawn noticed quickly that he had almost arrived at his destination. Parking his bike, Shawn dismounted it, and walked quickly to the front door and let himself in. Making a beeline for his desk, Shawn sat down in his chair and grabbed the case file in his hand. There was one thing in particular he was looking for. It was two pictures, one was a very looking out from the closet, the other was a view looking into the closet. He couldn't place what exactly it was, but Shawn was almost certain that there was something important about the closet.

Glancing over the pictures, a smile crept onto his face. Placing a calming finger to his head, he was able to visualize the day they investigated the crime scene. Something had stood out to him that day, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it, and it killed him. It was like that time that Gus, Lassiter, Woody, and himself had gotten so drunk that they couldn't remember what happened the night before. It was the only time that he was unable to visualize what had happened.

This was again just circumstantial, and was not something that he could bring to them. Yet he knew that if they didn't make a real effort soon, that Holden would get away with a murder that everyone knew he had committed. Shawn sighed, he had no choice. Picking up the land line that sat in front of him, Shawn dialed a familiar number and waited with bated breath.

"Chief Karen Vick." She sounded tired, and Shawn instantly felt guilty.

"Chief! Look I think I figured out a way to prove Holden-"

He come practically hear her head shake. "I'm sorry, Mr. Spencer. You are no longer a consultant for this police department."

His head hung. "Okay." Without a single goodbye, Shawn hung up the phone.

Screw it! He didn't need Jules or Lassie to make the big bust. He would prove, one way or another, that Holden killed Michael Trent if it was the last thing he did. He had to make amends for what he did.

Grabbing his cell phone, Shawn hit the speed dial and waited for a minute. "Gussy, my buddy! We're going on a trip."

A sigh sounded from the other end. "Oh hell no, Shawn! I remember Mexico-"

"No, Gus! We're not even leaving Santa Barbara, and if all goes well, we'll be putting a man behind bars today."

Gus definitely didn't like the sounds of that, but fighting against Shawn was like fight against the tide. More often than not, it's better to just ride it out and hope for the best. "Where are you?"

"Psych."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

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_**A/N: So-two whole chapters without a cliffhanger. Pretty awesome right? Next update will most likely be some point next weekend.**_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So...new update. Whumpage insues.**

* * *

"Just about three more houses on the left, Gus."

Gus eyed the street they were on. Something seemed familiar about this street, like he had been here recently—suddenly it all clicked. Eying Shawn from the corner of his eye, Gus huffed. Did Shawn think he was stupid? That he wouldn't remember where they were! Was he as big of an idiot as most of the SBPD thought he was?

"Shawn, we are _**not**_ confronting Holden Marshall by ourselves! Are you trying to get both of us killed?"

Shawn swallowed hard. Of course not, he had plans to keep Gus safe. However, Shawn knew he had to do this. He had to prove that the past seven years hadn't been a complete waste. Even if that meant he had to die to do it. Holden Marshall wasn't going to get away with murder, not on Shawn's watch.

"Oh, Gus, don't be the last animal cracker in the box! Of course we're not going to confront Holden-" Shawn paused, pointing his finger. "His vehicle isn't here. The SPBD did only release his residence this morning, so chances are, he's not home. We'll be in and out! I know that worthless scumbag hid the murder weapon in the house somewhere—I just don't know where."

Gus sighed as he guided the blueberry to the side of the road. "Quick—in and out—right?" Gus asked. Shawn was going to owe him big time for this! That was damn sure.

"In and out, buddy. I promise." Shawn smiled reassuringly at Gus.

"Well, let's go then. I really don't want to run into Creepy McCreepierson. Talking to him at the crime scene was bad enough!"

Shawn laughed lightly, "Let's go, buddy!"

* * *

Shawn crouched down, his knees cracking with the shifting of his weight. With his hands sprawled out in front of him, he moved forward at an almost snails pace. Every couple of seconds or so, he'd throw a backward glance at Gus whose movements mirrored his own. Shawn smiled broadly, as a realization hit him.

"Dude, we're totally like spies right now! I mean, how awesome- OW!" Shawn cried as he used one of his hands to rub the now sore spot on his bicep. "Gussssss! Not cool." Shawn pouted, but as his hand stopped to massage the abused muscle his wedding ring glinted in the sun. His lips stopped moving as he fell silent.

The element of surprise was the only thing on their side. What with Shawn forgetting to mention the fact that Holden typically parks his vehicle in back of the house. Though Shawn didn't really know one way or the other if Holden was home or not, Shawn did know that if Holden was home, Holden would be admitting to murdering his business partner.

Shawn groaned as the muscles in his legs pulled in protest at the amount of pressure he was putting on them. He stopped for a moment and made random signals with his hands. Gus tilted his head to the side.

"I don't know what you're trying to say, Shawn!" Gus's voice was a harsh whisper.

"Dude, it totally means my legs feel like I ran a mile, so I'm going to stand up and run to the side of the house."

Gus shook his head. "I'm fairly certain that's not what it meant, Shawn."

"I can't do this with you right now!" Shawn hissed, as he lifted himself into an almost fully standing position. Jogging quickly, Shawn threw his back against the side of the house and waited as Gus followed suit.

With his back flush with the house, Shawn moved slowly making sure to keep himself as unseen as possible. Spying a door about five steps ahead of them, he stopped and tapped Gus on the shoulder.

"Dude, look!"

Gus peered around Shawn, and saw the door. Nodding, Gus followed Shawn until they were directly in front of the side door. Gus noticed that Shawn's fingers were crossed, and smiled.

"You really think that'll make the door magically unlock?" Gus's eyebrows cocked slightly.

"No. I think it'll help my chances that the door is already unlocked." Shawn smiled, his hand clutching the knob tightly in his hand. He twisted it to the right and nearly wanted to scream out in joy when it gave way easily.

"What are the chances—Shawn?" Gus called, noticing that his best friend had already entered the house. Grunting, Gus quickly followed Shawn, even though the uneasy feeling that had been sitting right in the pit of his stomach, had grown intensely at the fact that the door was actually unlocked.

Once they both were inside, Gus grabbed Shawn's shoulder. As Shawn turned to face Gus, his face grew more serious. Gus swallowed hard when he heard it too. A frantic sounding voice was coming from further into the house. As the words became clearer, fear overtook Gus as he tried to drag Shawn out of the house.

"Dude, I have to do this. I have to prove to Lassie and Jules that I'm not—I don't know—I just know I have to do this! Look, you stay in here," Shawn paused as he shoved Gus into an open closet. "Stay here, Gus. Promise me! This will be even better than finding the murder weapon! I'll just get him to confess to the murder-" Gus's head shook vehemently back and forth. "Listen, Gus. I have to do this. I don't want you to get hurt. Also, it might be a good idea to call Jules. Explain the situation to her."

Shawn's hand snatched the door knob, as he shut the closet door. "Just—stay."

"Be safe." Shawn smiled at the two words that had come from his best friend.

* * *

Shawn cowered closer to the wall. Walking slowly, taking deliberate steps, he could hear the random rambling getting louder. Shawn could actually make out words now. A smile crossed his lips. Slipping his cell phone from his back pocket, he hit a couple of buttons and brought up the voice recording feature. He could see Holden now, his hands rubbing together meticulously. His eyes darting around the room in such a way that Shawn felt his heart jump into his throat.

It was clear the first time that they had interviewed Holden that something wasn't quite right about it. Shawn hadn't been able to put his finger on it. Holden had held himself as a businessman should. His shoulders and back were straight, the suit he wore was meticulously clean and ironed. His face had been freshly shaved. There wasn't anything about him that outwardly screamed _hey I just murdered my business partner_. Yet, something about Holden had seemed off. A nervous flick of his eyes, the way he constantly ran his hand through his hair.

Standing there now, watching as the man literally fell into a nervous wreck, Shawn realized that he had been right when he assumed that Holden had hid the murder weapon in the house. Shawn just couldn't figure out how he had hid it in such a way that the crime scene investigators hadn't found it. There was only one thing left to do.

"Hello, Holden." Shawn's voice eluded to confidence he didn't feel. He walked forward with his usual swagger. A smile crept onto his face. At least if he died right now, he would get this psycho to admit to his crime.

"You're the psychic—right?" Shawn watched as Holden's eyes flicked nervously around the room. The weapon had to be hidden somewhere in this room.

"Yeah, I am, Holden. You remember me, right? Shawn Spencer? Immaculate hair, extreme good looks-"

"Yeah—just shut up." Holden swiped his arm across his face. "Up against the wall! Now!"

Shawn's hands flew up in front of him, as he slowly back against the wall.

"I swear to god, psychic. You better not have any weapon on you!" Holden came toward him slowly.

Shawn swallowed hard. Holden Marshall was not a small man. Just looking at him, Shawn could tell he was at least six feet tall. His shoulders broad enough to land him as a defensive end. An eerie smile crossed Holden's lips, as he rushed forward. His hands gripped Shawn's jacket, as he pulled him forward.

"You really shouldn't have come, psychic." With that, Holden pushed Shawn back against the wall with renewed force. Shawn's head whipped back quicker than his body, and made a sickening sound as it connected with the wall. "Goodnight, psychic."

* * *

Gus heard something smack against the wall hard. His stomach tightened, as he thought that it had something to do with Shawn. Ripping the phone from his pants once more, he dialed a familiar number. He waited three rings before the other end picked up.

"Please tell me you're on your way!" Gus whispered harshly.

"Carlton is driving as fast as he can." Juliet explained, exasperated. She knew that Shawn had done some pretty idiotic things. Like lying about being psychic for instance. This, however, took the stupidity cake. Confronting a suspected murderer on his own, with only Gus as his backup.

"Just—hurry! I heard something hit the wall—I think Shawn might be hurt." Gus's hand went to the door knob, as his stomach knotted tighter. However, he recoiled it quickly when he heard footsteps in the kitchen. Slinking himself into the darkest corner of the closet. Damn Shawn and his need to prove that he was right. God, why did he always have to be right! Gus was pulled out of his internal dialogue when Holden started to ramble almost incoherently.

"Stupid psychic—idiot-should just kill him—should have buried the gun."

Gus stepped forward slightly so he could peek through the slitted closet door. He watched in horror as Holden ram-shackled through the kitchen drawers until he pulled out a large butcher knife. Gus breathed heavily, in and out, trying to keep the bile from moving any further. He closed his eyes for a moment, but all he could see was Holden stabbing his best friend. Gus watched through slitted eyes as Holden stalked back toward the front of the house. Once he thought it was safe, he brought the phone back to his ear.

"Tell me you heard at least some of that."

He heard a sigh. "Bits and pieces, Gus. Literally only heard psychic and idiot. The rest was too low for me to hear. What did he say?"

Gus swallowed heard. "That he should kill Shawn, and that he should have buried the gun."

He heard as Juliet gasped loudly. "We'll be there as soon as we can, Gus."

* * *

Shawn groaned as he cracked an eye open. Through a bleary eye he could see that Holden was pacing back and forth in front of him. Realizing quickly that he was no longer standing, he realized that he was in a completely different position. Risking the pain of a searing headache, Shawn let his eyes open fully.

The first thing he noticed was the he was sitting in the rocking chair that he had been standing by. Second thing he noticed was that Holden now held a very dangerous weapon in his current, crazy, state of mind.

The knife flicked around with ease with Holden's swift movements. Keeping his eyes on Holden, Shawn pulled his phone out and smiled seeing that it was still recording. Placing it back in place, he went to stand. His world started to spin just as Holden decided to speak. Shawn tried to clear his mind enough to hear Holden's words, but it wasn't working very well.

He swayed slightly, before giving up the thought of standing up. "What did you say, Holden?"

Shawn watched as the crazed look in Holden's eyes grew, as he sneered in Shawn's direction. "I said, sit back down, dumb-ass!"

Shawn nodded, "I see."

Holden walked forward as his eyes flicked around the room. Shawn realized that was his go to nervous reaction. Then Shawn determined that wielding the knife from hand to hand haphazardly was his second go to nervous reaction. Both of them could get him killed.

"So, Holden. What happened to your partner?" Shawn's eyebrows cocked. If he was going to die, might as well help Jules and Lassie out by getting a confession.

"Shut up, psychic! I have to think—wait. You're a psychic. Where the hell is it? I know you know!" Holden screamed, his face mere inches from Shawn's.

Shawn's eyes widen, but he tried to hide the fear he felt. "Where is what, Holden? I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Holden sneered at Shawn. "Either you are the worst psychic ever, or your lying to me. Now, where in the hell is it!"

Shawn watched as Holden readjusted the knife in his hand, as he proceeded to walk toward Shawn again. Holden's aimless pacing was starting to worry Shawn greatly. "I don't know, Holden—Honestly!"

Holden shook his head. He wasn't buying it. "You're lying! I swear to god, I will kill you. Tell me! I need it-"

Shawn sighed, "What do you need, Holden?" Shawn's voice calmed increasingly, hoping that the deranged man before him would give him something to go on.

Holden's head fell into his hands, the knife held precariously in his right hand as his head shook back and forth. This was his chance to bring things back into his favor. If he was going to do something though, it had to be right now. Making a move to get up, Shawn swayed before falling back onto the chair. His eyes blurred as the room spun uncomfortably.

"It was an accident." Holden's voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

"What was?" Shawn asked, but when Holden looked up his eyes were glazed over. Shawn realized that Holden was in the past, remembering something.

"I didn't mean to do it! He just—James was planning on buying out of our company. The company that I gave everything to, he was just going to buy out of it. He had plans of going out on his own. He had said so, so many times, but I just thought it was talk. Until he came here. Said he wanted to know how many shares he owned in the company so he could get the money to give it to me- and just like that, he would be gone!"

Holden glared at Shawn, his eyes no longer glazed looking. "So I shot him. I couldn't lose my company. If James left, then I would I lose it. I already gave _**everything**_ to that company. My wife left me, and took our kids. It was all I had left—I had nothing left to lose!"

Shawn just stared at Holden, shock coursing through his body. He had known that Holden killed James Parker—everything pointed to him, he just needed proof. Well here was his proof. However, the look in Holden's eyes said that his proof was going to come at a price.

"See—now I have to kill you." Holden sneered at him.

"You _**have**_ to kill me? That doesn't seem right—how about you don't kill me..." Holden held the knife in front of himself. His finger flicking the tip of it, watching as the sunlight glinted off the blade.

Holden started his advance on Shawn, who was currently in the process of shoving himself to his feet. Dizziness be damned! He had to get the hell out of here before Creeper Mcknifeypants got too close with that glinting blade. Shawn placed a hand to his head, to fend off the wavering dizziness as he staggered to the wall. Shawn wasn't entirely sure how good of a plan this had been, what with his back to the raging psycho with a knife. Taking a deep breath, Shawn took a step forward, only slightly too late. He felt the definite pain of the blade digging deeply into his back.

Unable to stop himself, a scream pierced the air, as tears rolled down his cheeks. Biting his lip, Shawn stopped the scream that wanted to force itself out, when Holden retrieved the knife from his back. Turning toward his tormentor, Shawn grabbed a hold of any self control he could, and pulled his arm back. He wanted to cry when his fist collided with Holden's face. Pain throbbed in his hand, as blood spewed from Holden's nose.

Shawn could now feel the sticky wetness of blood through his pants, coating his leg. Whimpering, Shawn staggered forward, taking advantage of Holden's current state of misery. Shawn made it three steps before he fell to the floor. His eyesight was blurring quickly, and the edges had started to gray. Forcing himself to turn onto his back so he could force his body back into a standing position, Shawn saw Holden standing over him. A murderous glint in his eyes, as he knelt down beside Shawn. Pulling the knife above his head, Shawn watched in horror as the knife plunged downward. Pain ripped through him, as screams erupted from his throat.

Unable to move at all, Shawn could simply just sit and watch the knife fly above him before plunging downward. Over and over. The pain had gone from barely tolerable to fiery intensity in a matter of seconds. Tears streamed down his cheeks. Pleas were whispered from Shawn's lips.

Shawn heard a faint noise behind him, but everything was graying. He was losing his battle with consciousness. He watched, as if in slow motion, as a bullet ripped through Holden's chest. His body falling to the floor with a loud thump. His eyes closing, he felt a warm hand on his cheek. Forcing his eyes open for a moment, just wanting to thank his saviors, Shawn smiled softly as he peered up into the ocean blue eyes of his wife.

"Hang on, Shawn." Tears were streaming down her face, and Shawn wished he had the strength to tell her everything would be okay. That he would be fine, because she was here with him now.

"Love you." With that he let darkness overtake him as the pain finally disappeared.


	4. Chapter 4

Juliet sighed, the tears had long since stopped flowing and her cheeks had dried. Pulling herself from the bathroom floor, she looked at her watch. Had she really been sitting on the floor for half an hour? Well, nothing could be done about that now, could it? Making her way out of the bathroom, Juliet stopped off in the bedroom. Unable to look at the bed without seeing what she and Shawn had done only forty minutes ago, she eyed the floor. Grabbing her blouse and skirt from the floor, Juliet tossed them on.

Damn the chief for making her take _**personal **_time. Like what she needed was to mope around the house and being reminded of all of the good memories that they've had together. Groaning, Juliet grabbed her cellphone. If anything she could at least call her mom. She was always up for listening to Juliet gripe.

She jumped when the phone in her hand started to vibrate. Looking at the name illuminated, Juliet groaned. _**Gus**_. This was either going to be a nice argument, or something had happened. That would be the only reason why Gus would be calling her after what had happened today.

"Hello." She tried her best to fake her usual cheery voice. She'd give herself a C minus.

"Juliet-"

Yeah, something definitely happened. The desperation in his voice told her as much.

"What's wrong, Gus?" There, she could totally fake her serious detective voice.

"It's, Shawn." Oh how those two words tore holes through her already broken heart. "He wanted to prove that he could still be helpful. He hated seeing the way everyone was looking at him—I tried to talk him out of it, but you know how Shawn is. When he gets an idea in his head-"

Juliet couldn't take it anymore. Why in the hell was Gus beating around the bush right now? "What is it, Gus?"

A sigh, exasperated. "I'm locked in a closet in Holden Mitchell's house."

A hand flew to her mouth. What in the hell was Shawn thinking? Of all the stupid stunts he has pulled over the years- "Why?" Juliet was already in motion. Her gun was tucked into its holster, her badge was placed on her waistband and her keys were in her hand.

"He wanted to prove that Holden murdered his partner. Shawn was certain that Holden had stashed the weapon in the house somewhere. Shawn was so sure that Holden wasn't home. When he found out that he was home, Shawn shoved me in the closet and told me to not move and to call you."

She sighed. How she hoped Shawn would be okay. Luckily for her the station was on the way to Holden Mitchell's. She needed to call Lassiter, but she hated the thought of hanging up with Gus.

"Gus, I need to call Carlton. If anything changes, call me back immediately."

"Okay, Juliet. I will."

With that, Juliet disconnected the call. Swiftly she dialed her partner's number. He answered on the third ring.

"Lassiter."

"Carlton, it's Juliet. Shawn and Gus are in trouble. Their in Holden's house—and he's home. Gus just called me. Shawn is confronting Holden as we speak-"

"Woah, O'Hara, slow down. Spencer and Guster are _**in**_ a suspected murderer's home—alone?"

Juliet shook her head, even though she knew that Lassiter couldn't see it. "Yes."

A growl emanated from Lassiter. "I'll meet-"

"Station is on the way to Holden's. Meet me outside."

"Fine, but we're taking my car."

"Fine."

A tiny chuckle bubbled up into her throat at the thought of Lassiter trying to squeeze into her tiny Volkswagen.

* * *

Juliet spent what felt like a lifetime dodging traffic, speeding along the Santa Barbara streets until she pulled her green Volkswagen into the parking garage. Pulling into a spot next to Lassiter's car, she threw her car into park before yanking the keys from the ignition and hopping out of the car.

"Carlton." Her voice was gruff and irritated, as her and her partner entered his car, before speeding off. His lights flashing, the siren sounding loudly. She sighed as the cars moved out of Lassiter's way, as he veered his car around others who remained stationary.

They weren't more than a couple of minutes from the station when her phone rang again.

"O'Hara." She didn't waste time checking the caller ID.

"Please tell me you're on your way." His voice sounded desperate. This scared her more than anything else. Juliet had seen Shawn in action, she had witnessed him talk himself out of many situations. The fact that Gus's feathers were rustled meant that he was fearful for his friend.

"Carlton is driving as fast as he can." Juliet explained, exasperated. She knew that Shawn had done some pretty idiotic things. Like lying about being psychic for instance. This, however, took the stupidity cake. Confronting a suspected murderer on his own, with only Gus as his backup.

"Just—hurry! I heard something hit the wall—I think Shawn might be hurt." The fear in Gus's voice caused Juliet's stomach to lurch uncomfortably. The muffled voice she heard next, she knew it wasn't Gus's. Two words were all she was able to decipher from the entire sentence. _**Psychic**_ and _**idiot**_. So obviously it was Holden, and he was obviously talking about Shawn-

"Tell me you heard at least some of that." Gus sounded exasperated. This was not good.

Juliet sighed. No, she hadn't—not really. "Bits and pieces, Gus. Literally only heard psychic and idiot. The rest was too low for me to hear. What did he say?"

Gus's swallow was audible, as Juliet's hand started shaking. "That he should kill Shawn, and that he should have buried the gun."

Juliet gasped. She might be unsure where they stood as a couple—as a married couple, but she damn well didn't want him dead. A life without Shawn altogether was not a life she was willing to live. "We'll be there as soon as we can, Gus."

* * *

Lassiter yanked the steering wheel hard to the right as his foot mashed hard on the brake. Juliet was out of the car before the car had even came to a complete stop. Her weapon was pulled from its holster, and Lassiter mimicked her movement. Motioning to each other for a moment, they heard a pained scream.

Lassiter lifted his leg, kicking the door hard. Juliet watched as the wood splintered. As she rounded the corner to enter the room, she heard Lassiter scream at the suspect.

"Drop the knife!"

Her eyes widen when she saw Holden straddling Shawn, the knife held high above his head. As it started plummeting quickly toward Shawn, a scream escaped her lips as Lassiter fired three times.

Holden Marshall's body dropped beside Shawn. There was no mistaking that the man was dead. Now it was time to tend to her injured husband. Walking quickly, she knelt down beside him. The blood that was pooling around his body alarmed her. He was losing blood too quickly. Lifting his head, she sat it in her lap. She couldn't focus on anything but comforting the man that was dying in front of her eyes.

"Hang on, Shawn." She peered into his hazel eyes, as tears fell from hers. Her hand stroking his face.

He smiled softly, the pain still evident in his eyes. "Love you." Shawn's eyes fell close, and Juliet felt herself starting to shake.

"Ambulance is on the way. Holy sweet justice, Spencer!" Lassiter shoved his fist against his mouth for a moment before dropping to his knees. Yanking his suit jacket off, Lassiter pressed it hard against the heaviest flowing of the wounds. "O'Hara!"

Juliet's head jerked toward Lassiter. "Help me!" At first she just looked at him with a look of confusion on her face. "Help me staunch the bleeding!"

Finally it clicked, and she could have kicked herself. Here she was letting him bleed out, when she could at least be trying to stop it! Peering around the room, she didn't spot anything that could help staunch the bleeding.

"Here." The voice was weak. Looking up, she saw Gus handing her his white dress shirt.

Taking it from him, Juliet pressed the shirt against one of the other six wounds on Shawn's body. Placing as much pressure as she could. Sirens could be heard in the distance, she just prayed that they would make it in time to save him.

* * *

Juliet sat, her head in her hands as Gus paced the length of the hall for the hundredth time since they had arrived. Henry was sitting, quietly beside her. Of everything, that's what unnerved her the most. Of all the times that Shawn's been in danger, or had actually been injured, she had never seen his father so—reserved. It was almost as if he had resigned himself to Shawn's death, and somehow had made peace with it.

Swallowing thickly, Juliet rubbed her hands together. She fought back a new batch of tears that threatened their downward descent. Of all the years that she had known Shawn, all of the good and bad, no image can over take the image of his blood pooling underneath him in such a way that made it seem as if he was already dead. The pallor of his skin had made her already queasy stomach churn in the most uncomfortable way. However it had been what he said that was haunting her conscious thought, and what she assumed would be her unconscious thought whenever she next attempted sleep.

The ambulance had gotten their rather quickly considering, and they had been quick to cover the numerous knife wounds with gauze before placing Shawn on the gurney and taking off toward the waiting ambulance. Juliet had ran after them but had pulled up short and threw a glance toward Gus.

"Go on, I'll catch a ride with Lassiter." He had said, as he waved her on.

Juliet climbed up inside the cab of the ambulance. The EMT had eyed her for a moment. "Family only, ma'am."

Juliet leveled a glared at him, as she clasped her hand around Shawn's. Lifting her free left hand, she waggled her ring finger at him. "I'm his wife." That had been enough to shut the young man up as he went to work keeping Shawn alive.

The drive to the hospital had taken forever, and Juliet had thought it was the longest wait she'd ever have in her life. That of course was until they rolled Shawn in, the doctor yelled to take him into the trauma examination room. Juliet hadn't made it more than five feet into the emergency room when she heard Shawn flat-line. Her heart lurched into her throat, as she stood unable to move, watching as the doctor worked to get his heart beating again. As soon as the steady beeping returned, Juliet released a breath she hadn't realized that she had been holding. Walking the rest of the way to the waiting room, Juliet had taken a seat to wait on the remainder of Shawn's family and co-workers.

That had been two hours ago. Two excruciating hours, of sitting and waiting. Of watching Gus pace the floor uncontrollably, while Henry sits there like a robot with no emotion on his face. She felt like she could burst at any moment when the door she had been watching opened. Standing quickly, not watching to see if anyone else followed her, Juliet tried to read the face of the doctor walking toward them. When she couldn't, she felt her fist clench and her teeth chatter with seething anger.

"Family of Shawn Spencer?"

Juliet felt someone grab a hold of her left hand. Her eyes trailed over and caught sight of Gus. His face showed her anger, sadness, and fear, with the latter being most prominent. Then she felt someone unclenched her right fist and hold onto it. Quickly eying the person, she saw that it was Henry. No emotion on his face, but she squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"Alright, here's the rundown. Mr. Spencer is extremely lucky to be alive right now. He sustained multiple stab wounds to his upper and lower torso. The worst of the damage seems to be to his liver, which received a slice in it. Luckily the liver can regenerate itself. What caused us the most trouble was the artery that was nicked what caused substantial internal bleeding. His left lung was also punctured and collapsed from a broken rib. We were able to go in and fix all of these. He will need to be in the hospital for at least five days. Depending on how he does in those five days, we'll see about releasing him then. Even after he's released, Mr. Spencer will need to undergo extensive physical therapy, is there someone that he can stay with until he's a hundred percent?"

Juliet stepped forward. "I'm his wife." The doctor merely nodded in confirmation. "Can we see him?"

The doctor cleared his throat. "Yes, but only one at a time. Please realize that, Mr. Spencer is still unconscious from the anesthetic, and we're going to keep him sedated until at least tomorrow to help keep him from aggravating his injuries. If you'll follow me."

* * *

Juliet sat in a chair outside of Shawn's room as she waited for Henry to finish talking with Shawn, who had apparently woken up halfway through Gus's speech on not ever doing anything stupid like this ever again. She saw Henry smile softly and ruffle Shawn's hair, before walking towards her. Taking a deep breath, Juliet steeled herself for what she was about to see.

"Hello, Juliet." Henry smiled brightly at her. Obviously Shawn had convinced him that he'd be fine. Juliet, however could see past Henry's smile, and see the pain and fear of thinking that his only child might die.

"Hello, Henry." Juliet and Henry had a heated debate on what she should refer to him as when her and Shawn had gotten married. He was certain it should be dad, since technically he was her father-in-law, but she was certain that Henry suited the situation just fine. The fact that she didn't even call her own father, dad, was enough to scare her away from that word for quite a while.

"He's been asking about you. He's afraid you're angry with him." Juliet smiled stiffly. She was angry, but was it about what had gone down earlier that afternoon or was she angry with herself?

"I'm confused, Henry-"

Henry held up a hand. "I understand, Juliet. You better go on in there, before the nurse comes to kick us all out."

Juliet inhaled deeply and released it slowly as she nodded her head. Walking into that room was the hardest thing she ever had to do. To walk in there, knowing that Shawn was battered and broken, nearly beyond repair. It caused tears to form in her eyes, but she closed them quickly, refusing to let them fall.

"Hey, Jules." Shawn smiled weakly at her, his hand reaching out for hers.

Sitting down in the chair that many had occupied before her, she clutched his hand in hers.

"Hey, Shawn." She forced a smile.

Shawn was still very pale, with wires coming from multiple parts of his body. Her eyes scanned the machines that were keeping track of everything from his heart rate to his blood pressure and temperature.

"Go on then, yell. I know it's what you're wanting-"

Juliet's head snapped back to meet Shawn's eyes. "I don't want to yell at you, Shawn. I am terrified. Do you know what it was like to walk into that—_**monster's**_ house and have to watch as he tried to drive that knife into your body again? Let's not forget the heart-stopping panic that filled me when I saw how much blood you had lost already-"

Shawn's hand gripped hers tighter. "I am so sorry, Jules. Honey, I never ever meant to scare you like that. I just—I hated the fact that everyone was looking at me differently-" Juliet's mouth bobbed open to speak, and Shawn let go of her hand to place his finger against her lips. "Let me finish! Yeah, I lied and I know it was wrong. I know you have every right to be angry at me, Jules. I know that. It's not right that everyone is treating me like I didn't solve every single case I was given. Damn it, Jules. I might not be psychic, but I still solved every case thrown my way. That has to count for something right? I just—wanted to prove that I could still solve cases. I knew that bastard hid the weapon in his house somewhere—I just wasn't sure where. I had to get in there and have a look around. When I realized that he was home, I made Gus hid because I couldn't handle the thought of him getting hurt because I'm an idiot-"

"Shawn." Juliet's voice was merely a whisper. Her hand reached out to cup his cheek. "Yes, you did solve all those cases, and one day when I'm able to think about all of this, without feeling so _**overwhelmed, **_and then I want to hear how exactly it is that you did all of that. However, the chief was right, Shawn. You committed a crime, and she is working hard to ensure that you stay out of jail, which means that you need to keep your nose clean-" Juliet paused, taking in his current condition. "Which I don't think will be hard right now-"

Shawn sighed as his eyes grew heavy and slipped close for a moment before he forced them open again.

"I'm gonna go for now. I have some paperwork to do on this case and some errands to run. I'll be back though, I promise. You get some sleep." As Juliet stood up, she leaned over Shawn and kissed his forehead, before leaning her forehead against his. "Just because I'm upset with you—it doesn't mean that I don't love you."

He smiled softly at her. "I love you too, Jules." With that she stood up and walked out the door. With one last glance at her husband, Juliet started to walk carefully toward the door, as tears slowly started to fall down her cheeks.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A Month Later**_

Shawn glared at the television set in front of him, before his eyes probed the room. Quickly they landed on the object of his desire. The remote control, that just happened to be on the other side of the room. How absolutely convenient that was. Groaning slightly, Shawn held a protective hand over his overly sore upper body, as he shoved himself up off the couch with his other. Luckily Juliet had made a run to the grocery store, and Gus had an errand to run before he could begin babysitting duties. Though neither of them knew what the other was up to. Shawn had made sure of that.

He loved his wife with everything in him, no matter how weird and uncomfortable the last month had been, but the woman was driving him crazy. Juliet didn't let him do anything for himself. He couldn't even go to the bathroom without her standing there—watching him. Gus wasn't much better, considering the last time his best friend played babysitter, every time a noise came from Shawn's mouth his overactive hands fluttered over Shawn's body.

Though Shawn was making great progress, according to his physical therapist, he was still too weak to walk long distances on his own. Trips from the couch to the kitchen, bathroom, or bedroom were becoming much easier. Though they were tiring, his doctor said that it was the pain medicine that was mainly zapping his energy reserve.

Shawn was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a key in the lock. "Shit." His voice was hushed. Juliet had beaten Gus to the house, which meant that she would be pissed and most likely would yell at him. He had only been caught changing his babysitting plans one other time. It had not been pretty, and she had gotten his father involved, which meant it had been even less pretty once the bald man starting pointing that accusing finger in his face. Words like _**idiot**_ were thrown around a lot. Which usually made Shawn flinch, even if he was trying like hell to break that habit. Only Juliet knew the reasons behind his flinching at his father's favorite word to describe him. She wanted to tell Henry, but Shawn begged her not to. Explaining that it was bad enough that she had to see him that vulnerable.

The door opened just as Shawn was reaching for the remote control. Closing his eyes, he waited for the onslaught of yelling, but instead he heard the front door slam shut and the pounding of feet against the hardwood floor. Turning toward the retreating figure of his wife, he watched as she slid into the bathroom and slammed the door.

As he started his slow, hunch-back walk toward the couch, he heard the familiar sounds of retching and grimaced. That had been a fun week. Shawn had never been a big eater when he was sick, and he had caught a cold a week after he was released from the hospital. Taking pain medication without food was not one of his smarter moves, especially since the constant vomiting had caused him to bust open a few of his worse stab wounds. One emergency room visit later, he had new stitches and some anti-nausea medicine to take one hour prior to his pain meds.

Switching directions, Shawn held a little tighter to his midsection as he continued his slower than snail pace down the hallway. This was getting ridiculous, he just wanted to walk like a normal human being. His doctor promised that once he got the remaining stitches removed next week, that he'd at least be able to stand upright. Placing his free hand against the wall, Shawn held himself up as he panted from exerting himself. Once he was sure that he wasn't going to tumble forward, Shawn removed his hand from the wall and knocked lightly on the door.

"Jules. Are you okay?" The sounds of retching had stopped, and now he just heard her groaning softly. Twisting the knob, Shawn pushed the door open. To hell with privacy. They were married, he was bound to see her in this situation at some point, plus she had been watching him use the bathroom for weeks now. Once the door was no longer obstructing his view, Shawn saw that she was leaning her head against the toilet seat. A sheen of sweat was glazing her forehead, and she was pale. "Jules." His voice was soft, as he lowered himself into a sitting position on the side of the tub. Running his free hand along side her forehead and down her cheek, he noted that she wasn't warm.

"I think it's food poisoning—or a bug of some sort. You shouldn't be around me just encase. We don't need you busting open your stitches one week before you're supposed to have them removed." She sighed, as her head lulled against his leg. Her pale blue eyes probed his for a moment. "By the way, I knew that you had tricked Gus into not coming. I called him on the way home and explained me being sick. He's on his way to get you."

"But, Jules! I don't want to stay with Gus. He gets all weird when my pain flares up-"

"I heard that, Shawn!"

Shawn glanced at Juliet, noting that she hadn't heard the door open either. "I'm sorry, but it's true, buddy. You get all pale, and look at me like I'm broken."

Gus huffed, and Shawn could all but see him with his arms folded against his chest. Smiling, Shawn braced himself with one hand and pulled himself into a standing position with the other, and hissed out in pain as he left his midsection unprotected.

"You two play nice now." Juliet's voice was weak, and Shawn felt horrible about leaving her alone.

"Jules, you're sick. You need someone to take care of you!" Shawn glowered at her.

"It's probably just a twenty-four hour thing. I'll be right as rain tomorrow." Juliet faked a smile, that looked more like a grimace. When Shawn's facial expression didn't change, Juliet moaned as she shoved herself to her feet. "It's fine, Shawn. Just go, and have fun. The safe kind that does not involve busted stitches or emergency room visits." Juliet peeked around the corner at Gus, who was standing a safe distance from the potentially sick woman. "If anything happens tonight, you better call me. I know how he can talk you into doing things that are not smart or safe." Juliet eyed Gus carefully before he shook his head.

Shawn exited the bathroom, and turned toward Juliet. Leaning forward, Juliet turned her face so that his lips connected with her cheek. "Sick, remember? Besides, I just threw up, do you really want to kiss that?" Juliet made a disgusted face, as Shawn smiled sadly.

"If you need me, Jules—I'm just a phone call away."

She nodded, as she reached out to caress his cheek.

* * *

"Alright, buddy, what are we going to do. Play some basketball—perhaps football?"

Gus snorted loudly. "Yes, Shawn, we're playing football. I'm fairly certain that would go over well with Juliet, your father—oh and the doctor that I'll have to explain it to when you most certainly bust your stitches again."

Shawn laughed. "Dude, I was so talking X-box, but hey, I'm up for a rousing game of tackle football. It's all good, you'd never lay a hand on me. I'm that fast."

Gus laughed. "Yeah, about as fast as an eighty year old man on a rascal! I've seen turtles that run faster than you, not to mention that your current situation has made you even slower."

Shawn feigned a hurt expression, as he placed a gentle hand against his heart. "I am hurt, Gus! It physically hurts me to hear things like that. You know that. Now I must have a pineapple smoothie, and your buying."

Gus shook his head, "As if I believed any different. When are you going to pick up the tab for smoothies?"

"Never, if I can help it. It just, seems like such a nice gesture when it comes from you Gus. Even if you don't know it's coming from you."

Gus snorted again, his hands fisting tightly against the steering wheel. "Believe me, Shawn. I always know when it's coming from me. Considering that you never pick up the tab, it always comes from me. I'm so canceling that credit card."

Shawn whipped his head toward Gus. "You wouldn't!"

Gus laughed, as he peeked at Shawn's expression. "Oh, I would."

Shawn sighed, a pout firmly on his lips, as he carefully crossed his arms over his chest. "Just wait, when I get these stitches out, I'll be a brand new man."

Gus chuckled lightly, as he pulled into the parking lot for his apartment complex. "Shawn, you can only be a brand new man, if you plan on changing. I know you, and changing isn't something you do—or like for that matter. So, you'll be the same man."

Shawn shrugged his shoulders. "You got a bit of a point there, Gussy boy. I suppose I won't be a brand new man, just one with newly closed up holes. At least chicks dig scars, right? You think it'll work on Jules, cause I totally think our relationship is so moving in the right direction."

Gus climbed out of his car, and walked around to the passenger side. Shawn already had the door open, and was attempting to get out on his own accord, but the grimace planted firmly on his face noted that he was not succeeding. Placing a hand around his arm, Gus helped Shawn pull the tangled mess of his legs from the vehicle, before leaning him against the car.

"No, I don't think your stab wound scars will work on Juliet. Unless of course you want her to remember how big of an idiot you are. Shawn, you nearly died! That is not even remotely funny."

Shawn sighed. "Yeah, I know, Gus. It just—I don't like being reminded how stupid I was, okay? Yeah, I made a mistake, but truthfully—I would have done anything I could to fix what I had broken. I love her so much, and seeing that seething hate on her face—pointed directly at me-" Shawn sighed. "If you want me to say I wouldn't do it all over again, I can't. I would do whatever I need to, to fix my marriage. I love Juliet, and I don't want to end up like my dad. In love with someone that I can't have because of past mistakes."

Gus's mouth stood agape for a moment, before he snapped it shut. "Serious Shawn moment?"

Shawn smiled softly. "Warning next time?"

"Would be nice. It kind of surprises me when you do that without warning."

* * *

Juliet roused early the next morning, her stomach still churning slightly. Her abdomen was sore from throwing up so much the previous night. It was around midnight when she had drifted to sleep, her head propped up against the cold porcelain of the toilet. Just as her body was relaxing and she could feel herself falling toward that deep sleep, she had sat bolt upright. The movement had upset her already iffy stomach, causing her to lean over the bowel once more. By the time the dry heaves had stopped, tears were effectually rolling down her cheeks, but she had come to a realization that frightened her slightly.

This is what caused her to move from the comfort of the bed, and the warmth of her blankets. Moving at nearly a snails pace, Juliet grabbed a tee shirt and a pair of jeans, as she made her way back to the sanctuary of the bathroom. Turning on the tap for the shower, she fingered the water until it was as hot as her body could stand. Quickly, she shed her clothing and stepped under the tap of hot water and felt the tension literally melt away from her body.

After ten minutes, the water started to take a turn toward lukewarm, so she shut the tap off and pushed open the curtain. Grabbing her towel, she rubbed it through her wet hair, before throwing it around her thin frame. Once she stepped out, she looked herself over in the mirror and sighed. She just didn't have the energy to go through the process of putting makeup on today. As quickly, as her unruly stomach would allow, Juliet yanked on her clothes and pulled a brush through her hair.

Once she was satisfied, Juliet called Gus to explain that she still wasn't feeling good and that she was going to go see the doctor. He had promised to look after Shawn for the remainder of the day, and that Henry would keep him overnight. Juliet had to laugh a little bit at the fact that it sounded like they were babysitting a child. She sobered quickly at the thought, and grabbed her keys and headed out the front door.

The drive to her doctor's office was done in silence, not even the radio was able to keep her mind from thinking of all the possibilities. She pulled into an open spot close to the building and removed herself from the car. Placing her keys in her purse, Juliet walked slowly into the building and smiled at the receptionist.

"I have an appointment to see Dr. Kleinman."

The receptionist nodded slightly. "Name?"

"Juliet Spencer."

The receptionist stood up, and walked toward a cart that held numerous folders. After a moment she returned. "I'll let the doctor know that you're here."

Juliet nodded lightly, as she turned around and had a seat. Her thoughts ran rampant, and she found herself shaking slightly when a short rotund nurse called out her name. Standing up, Juliet tossed the shoulder strap of her purse over her shoulder and walked toward her. After getting weighed, blood pressure, and temperature taken, Juliet was led into a small room.

"The doctor will be with you shortly." The nurse smiled softly, as she pulled the door shut behind her.

Juliet found herself literally twiddling her thumbs, as her legs swung back and forth. She felt as her blood pressure started to rise, closing her eyes, Juliet breathed deeply. Her eyes only opened when the door squeaked open.

"Hello, Juliet. How are you feeling?" Dr. Kleinman asked, as he took a seat in front of her.

"I've been throwing up since about noon yesterday. At first I thought it was either food poisoning or some sort of bug, until I realized that I'm late-"

The doctor nodded. "Alright, Mrs. Spencer. Let's get you set up to have some blood drawn." Dr. Kleinman stood up, and ushered Juliet from the room. She followed him down a short hallway, before entering another room. "Please have a seat. Julia will be with you shortly. Once you're done, just go back into the same room, and Julia will let me know that you're finished."

Juliet nodded, as the door was pulled shut behind him. Sighing deeply, Juliet felt tears brush against her cheek. The door opened soundlessly as a tall, lanky woman entered.

"Mrs. Juliet Spencer, I'm Julia. I'll be taking your blood today." Julia sat down in a seat and wheeled herself up beside Juliet. After pulling on a pair of gloves, Julia readied a needle and tube. Poking and prodding Juliet's arm, she stuck the needle in her arm and watched as blood poured into the tube. "There we go. Just head on back to your room. Dr. Kleinman will have the results shortly." Julia said, as she patted Juliet's arm.

Juliet stood, and walked back the way she came. As she entered the room, she sat down quickly and crossed her legs. She hadn't realized that her eyes had slipped closed until the door squeaked open without her knowing it. Dr. Kleinman sat down, and looked over a single sheet of paper in his hand.

"Ah, Mrs. Spencer. It appears that you are indeed pregnant. If you don't have a normal OB/GYN, I can set you up with someone-"

Juliet held up a hand and shook her head. "I have one."

Dr. Kleinman nodded. "I'd set up an appointment with him shortly so that you can get some more information, and know your due date."

Juliet nodded, as the doctor stood up and Juliet followed him out. Juliet walked numbly out of the doctor's office as she realized that she was going to have to tell Shawn that they were going to be parents.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Two Weeks Later**_

"Two more reps, Mr. Spencer."

Shawn glared at the small balding man that was standing over him. The fact that the man's hairline and general face shape reminded him all to much of his father, who he still wasn't on a complete speaking basis with, was enough to put him in a grumpy mood. However, the pain coursing through his body sent him way past grumpy and sliding into angry quickly.

"That's—my—father's-name." Shawn gritted as he quickly finished another rep of sit-ups. He couldn't hate his body anymore right now if he tried. Shawn had always been a firm believer in the fact that he can force his body to do whatever he needs it to do. The fact that a set of four sit-ups per rep was on the verge of killing him, was very disconcerting to him.

"I'm sorry, Shawn."

Shawn nodded at the small man. "Good. Now can we talk about the amount of pain I'm in?"

Gerry, the annoyingly nice physical therapist, smiled at Shawn. "Shawn, you were stabbed several times, and only just had your stitches out last week. Of course you're sore. However, in order to get your body healed and back into shape, we need to stick to a strict workout regime. I promise that this is all guideline exercises for people with stab wounds."

Shawn just glared at Gerry. "Fine, Gerald-"

Gerry held up a hand. "Gerry."

"Yeah—right." Shawn rolled his eyes. As if Gerry was really a step up from Gerald. Struggling for an upright position, Shawn fought through another round of four sit-ups.

"Congrats, Shawn! You completed your first day of physical therapy! Your next appointment will be set up by the receptionist, so I'll see you in a couple of days." Gerry smiled enthusiastically, as he withheld a hand to Shawn.

"Oh, great. More torture." Shawn mumbled as he took Gerry's outstretched hand, and pushed himself into a semi-standing position. Bent slightly at the waist, with his left arm tucked tightly against his throbbing midsection, Shawn started to move slowly toward the door. As he reached the door, Shawn outstretched his right hand and gave the knob a twist. Shoving it open, Shawn walked out into the waiting room to find Juliet sitting in a chair, her legs crossed with her nose shoved into a magazine. "Ready, Jules?" Shawn called. Her head lifted, as she nodded. Shawn moved gingerly toward the counter. "I need to make an appointment within the next couple of days." Shawn fought the urge to roll his eyes, though he knew that between Juliet, Gus, and his dad, he wouldn't be getting out of his physical therapy.

"Of course, Mr. Spencer. I have a one-thirty available on Thursday." The bubbly receptionist said.

"I'll take it."

She nodded in response as she wrote the information down on a card and handed it off to Shawn. "See you, Thursday."

Grabbing the card from her hand, Shawn groaned. Turning toward, Juliet, he handed her the card. "I believe there was promise of food?" His eyebrow lifted expectantly.

"Like I would take you from the house without feeding you." Juliet chuckled, as she looped her arm with Shawn's right one. After they were outside the building, Juliet stopped him. "How bad are you hurting?"

"Depends. If I move a lot without my arm squeezed against my side, then it sorta feels like someone attempted to beat me to death without succeeding. Otherwise, it's not too bad. A twinge here or there."

Juliet sighed softly, as she rummaged around inside her purse. "Thought you might need these." She plopped two tiny white pills in his hand. Shawn's eyebrow quirked. "Tylenol, Shawn."

Shrugging, and then hissing at the pain it caused for his battered upper torso, Shawn dropped the pills into his mouth and dry swallowed them. "Now, I believe it's lunch time."

* * *

Juliet pulled her car into a parking spot and yanked the keys from the ignition. Opening the door, she got out and rushed around the car to help Shawn. Just as she pulled his door open her cell rang. Pulling it from her purse, she held a finger up to Shawn who pouted.

"O'Hara." Juliet sighed lightly, as her face fell. Since Shawn's incident and his recovery, they had actually been getting along fairly well. Better than Juliet would have guessed, at least quicker than she thought. Today was supposed to be all about them. Going to lunch at Shawn's favorite restaurant, catching a movie at the theater. It was going to be an entire date day, something that Shawn had done for her many times when they had been dating, but now it was ruined. "Yes, Chief. I understand." Sighing once more, Juliet disconnected the call. A frown found its way onto her face. "I'm sorry, Shawn."

Shawn smiled brightly at Juliet. "It's okay, Jules. I'll just hang with Gus. No biggie."

Juliet shook her head. "Gus went away on a retreat for the week, remember?"

This time Shawn sighed. "Guess it's me and pops." Though he tried to keep the sadness from his eyes, Juliet caught a hint of it, and felt her heart clench. She had hoped that Shawn and Henry would have been able to get over their bullheadedness by now and call a truce. Then again, Henry had tried to call a truce between him and Shawn after his incident, and they had spent some time together.

"Shawn, you have to forgive him sometime." Shawn's head snapped toward Juliet, a glower on his face.

"Jules, he practically ruined my life. I almost lost you-" Shawn let his sentence trail off. Neither of them had really spoken about what had happened prior to his run-in with Holden Marshall. Juliet was willing to discuss it, in fact she knew that if their marriage was truly going to survive it, that they would eventually need to talk about it. It was Shawn that refused to talk about it. To this day, Juliet still didn't know how exactly Shawn _**did it**_. How he was always one step ahead of them, or how he was able to jump to the most ridiculous conclusions only to have them turn out to be right.

"I know, Shawn, but he's your father." Juliet knelt down in front of him now. Her hand on his cheek.

"I don't claim him, Jules." Shawn grimaced as he lifted his hand to place it against the one on his cheek.

Sighing, Juliet stood up, and walked back to the driver's side of the car. Climbing inside, she put the key back into the ignition. "Just think about maybe forgiving him, Shawn."

"I'll try."

* * *

Shawn watched as Juliet pulled away. Holding his smile in place until her car disappeared from sight. Once the green Volkswagen disappeared around the corner, his face fell. The sound of footsteps racing toward the back door, made Shawn cringe. Henry wasn't under any illusion that Shawn liked him anymore today than he had the previous day. So when the door opened, and Shawn frowned at Henry, he simply shrugged and ushered his obviously still hurting son inside the house.

Once inside, Shawn carefully lowered himself onto the couch and began flipping through channels. Settling on ESPN, Shawn snuggled his body further into the couch until he was fully comfortable. His eyes slowly started to drift close as the second dosage of Tylenol started to take effect and the pain started to subside.

Henry watched his son from the kitchen, his arms crossed in front of his chest, as his left shoulder leaned heavily against the wall. He had noticed that Shawn had been heavily favoring his upper midsection and realized quickly that today was Shawn's first day of physical therapy. Henry had known that the therapy would be painful for Shawn, but the obvious tremor of his hands as he gripped the door to keep it from slamming shut in front of him, had been more than Henry had been willing to accept. He'd have to call Shawn's therapist and tell him to ease up on the treatments until Shawn was less tender from having all his stitches removed.

Sighing as a light snore erupted from Shawn's mouth, Henry turned away from his sound asleep son and sat down at the kitchen table. With the newspaper firmly in one hand, he grabbed a hold of his coffee mug, and took a quick swig of the hot stuff, before continuing his reading.

* * *

Juliet growled, the glower on her face seemed to make Lassiter shrink away from her instantly. The pile of papers on her desk taunted her, his excuse being that it was long overdue paperwork that she hadn't filed before taking her leave of absence. However, the further she dug through the mound of papers, Juliet quickly realized that Lassiter had simply dumped his paperwork on her, yet again, and was trying to place blame solely on Juliet for it not being done.

Standing, her hands firmly placed on her hands, Juliet practically ran forward. She stopped just beside Lassiter's desk, the look on her face darkened the station increasingly. Slamming one palm down on his desk, Lassiter had no choice but to snap his head up.

"Yes, O'Hara?" He tried to keep the slight tremor from his voice. Generally speaking, no one could strike an ounce of fear into Lassiter. Not gun-wielding maniacs hell-bent on splattering his blood from his body. Definitely not a woman. However, O'Hara wasn't just any woman. Juliet O'Hara was his partner, and like it or not, she had the opportunity to make his life a living hell. At least more so than it already was. Juliet had his back on more than one occasion, though part of him would never forgive her for her choice of spouse.

"You know damn well that I am on leave. You can do your own paperwork. Do you understand that I had to leave Shawn alone with his father. I have no idea what I may or may not walk in on-"

Lassiter sighed, and held up his hand to stop her. Juliet had a point, and Lassiter had to admit that if he knew that the elder Spencer would be stuck with his younger half during this mess, then he might not would have done it. However, Lassiter didn't keep a personalized '_Shawn Spencer babysitting duty_' calendar. The sheer fact that Lassiter had been scribbled down on that calendar once already was enough to make him shudder. Lassiter knew that the two Spencers hadn't been getting along. Not since Henry had spouted off Shawn's secret. Those Spencer men really needed to learn to let things go.

"I'm sorry, O'Hara. You'd better go before they kill each other."

Juliet sighed, and rolled her eyes. She was annoyed at the complete waste of time this was, and even more so at the fact that it had wasted almost an hour of her time alone with Shawn. Which, given his current state, was much harder to come by than most would have thought. Most importantly, tonight was the night that she was going to tell Shawn that he was going to be a daddy. She had the whole night planned, and if she didn't hurry up, then all her plans would be ruined.

"Yeah, fine." Juliet waved Lassiter off, before practically storming out of the station.

* * *

The drive to Henry's house had been excruciating, made worse by the fact that no one seemed fit to answer the damn phone. She was going to be extremely pissed if they were arguing again. Shawn wasn't in good enough shape just yet to be in a full fledged shouting match with his father.

Juliet guided her Volkswagen against the curb, threw the strap of her purse over her shoulder before snatching the keys and exiting the car. The walk up the driveway and onto the back porch was tedious. What was even more disconcerting was the fact that she heard no noise. Even if they weren't fighting, some sort of noise should be heard. Scuffling of feet against the hardwood, clinking of glass-ware being washed. Something.

Sighing audibly, Juliet pulled her service weapon that was still holstered on her hip. Using the tips of her fingers, Juliet nudged the back door open. Swinging into the kitchen, Juliet was able to quickly clear that room, before moving onto the small hallway that connected the kitchen and living room. It was there that Juliet knew something was terribly wrong. A limp hand could be seen from where she stood. Swinging out into the living room, Juliet felt her stomach roll. On one side of the room lay Shawn, a gun held firmly in his grasp. No apparent blood surrounded him. On the other side, a large puddle of blood lay beneath Henry Spencer's body. Though every ounce of her being wanted to go to Shawn first, Juliet knew that she had to check on Henry first. Kneeling down beside his lifeless body, she pressed two fingers against his carotid artery and felt a sob catch in her throat.

Pressing the back of her hand against her mouth, Juliet closed her eyes. She pressed her fingers harder against his pulse point begging the skin beneath her finger to jump, to show some sort of life. When nothing happened, she forced herself up, and walked toward Shawn. Kneeling down beside him, she pressed two fingers against his carotid artery and sighed in relief as the pulse thrummed evenly under her fingers.

As she rocked back on her heels to pull herself upright, she took in the scene again. Her eyes drifting from Henry's lifeless body back to Shawn's unconscious form and finally landing on the pistol held in his limp hand. A gasp escaped her mouth. It couldn't be, and yet it appeared that Shawn had killed his father. Digging in her purse, her eyes still locked on the gun in Shawn's hand, Juliet pulled out her cell phone.

"This is Detective Juliet O'Hara and I need to report a possible homicide."

* * *

_**A/N: Just remember, if you kill me, this will never get resolved. Keep that in mind. **_


	7. Chapter 7

Juliet knelt protectively over Shawn. While everything in the room pointed its big, ugly finger at Shawn, Juliet couldn't believe it. Shawn Spencer was not a cold blooded killer. He might not have been happy with his father, and they might have been at odds, but Shawn would not have killed him. It wasn't in Shawn's blood.

"Come on, Shawn. Wake up and tell me who did this." Juliet's voice was soft. Merely a whisper, as she brushed his hair from his face.

The door in the kitchen flew open, smashing hard against the wall. Juliet could hear the wood splintering. Followed closely by Lassiter's gruff voice clearing the kitchen.

"In here, Carlton." Juliet called.

Her body tensed slightly when Lassiter's lanky body thrust around the corner, gun drawn and aimed directly at her husband. Without speaking one word, Juliet pointed a shaking finger in the direction of Henry's lifeless body. She watched as her partner paled at the sight, before turning back toward her and the still unconscious Shawn.

"What's the story, O'Hara?"

Standing up carefully, her legs shaking slightly. "I came in through the kitchen. It was too quiet and still, so I drew my gun and cleared both the kitchen and the small hallway. Upon entering the living room I discovered Henry Spencer's body. I knelt beside him and felt for a pulse. When I didn't feel one, I looked up and noticed Shawn-" Juliet paused and motioned toward Shawn's still body. "I felt for his pulse and quickly found one-"

Lassiter nodded as he looked around the scene. His face wrinkled slightly when he noticed the gun clutched in Shawn's hand.

"What's the story there?" Lassiter asked, as he kicked at Shawn's hand.

Juliet just shook her head. She couldn't bring herself to say any of the words, mainly because any of those words would cause suspicion to be pointed directly at Shawn. Their marriage might not be made of sunshine and unicorns, but she loved him nonetheless. The sheer fact that Shawn could become the prime suspect in his father's murder made her insides run cold. Juliet knew that something else had happened here. Something that caused Henry to get shot and for the gun to wind up in Shawn's hand. There was just no way that Shawn shot his father. Juliet refused to believe it.

"I—honestly-I don't know." It killed Juliet to admit that, but she honestly didn't know what had happened. Only Henry and Shawn knew what had happened, and one of them was dead. The other was currently unconscious.

A groan sounded from Shawn as his arm twitched. "Dad?" His voice was weak, barely there, but Juliet heard him. Kneeling down, she brushed back the hair from his forehead.

"Shawn."

His eyes opened and blinked wearily. "Jules?" Uncertainty was evident in his tone.

"Shawn. Just stay still. Does anything hurt?"

Shawn shook his head, as he attempted to push himself into a sitting position. "What happened?" He asked as he ran a shaking hand through his hair. His eyes probed the room. He noticed the gun that was now laying beside him, first. As his head turned to examine the room a scream caught in his throat. "Dad!" He yelled. Shoving himself into a standing position, Shawn made a move to go to his father's lifeless form.

"Shawn." Juliet called, but it was Lassiter's tight grip that kept Shawn from moving. "He was unresponsive when I found him." Glassy eyes stared at her. "He's-"

"No! Don't say it. He's just-he's fine!"

"I'm sorry, Shawn." Tears rolled down her cheeks, as she reached out toward him.

"Look, Spencer-" Shawn jerked toward Lassiter, forgetting the elder detective was even in the room. The quick movement made him dizzy and he swayed on his feet for a moment. "We need you to come with us to the station."

"What for? I don't know anything. All I remember is falling asleep on the damn couch and waking up on the floor."

"As of right now, you are a person of interest in this case. You know how this goes, Spencer."

Shawn shook his head, as he wrenched his arm free from the elder detective's grasp. "Don't even, Lassiter." Venom dripped from Shawn's words, and the full use of Lassiter last name caused him to take a step back. He had never seen the younger Spencer in such a mood before. "Don't look me in the eye and tell me that you think I murdered my father!"

"It's a formality, Shawn." Lassiter held his hand in a passive gesture. "You're not being accused of anything."

Shawn threw his hands up in a pacifying gesture. "Okay—alright. Just-" A shuttered sigh escaped Shawn's mouth as a tear slipped down his face. "That's my dad, Lassiter. Right there." Shawn's voice was soft and broke on the last word. Pointing at Henry's body, which was currently being loaded into a body bag. "I just—he's dead." Shawn's knees buckled as he fell to the floor in a heap. Pain coursed through his still battered body, but it didn't overwhelm the suffocating truth. His father was dead. Someone had come into his house and murdered him. Shawn couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that his father was dead, let alone the fact that he seemed to have been snoozing on the floor while it happened. Closing his eyes tightly, ignoring the tears that were cascading down his cheek, Shawn drew a finger to his temple.

Lassiter scoffed at the movement, which caused Shawn's eyes to snap open and level a glare at Lassiter. "I thought we were over this nonsense, Spencer. You know—since the whole-"

Juliet coughed uncomfortably. "That's how, Shawn thinks. It's how he processes things."

Lassiter rolled his eyes. "Process whatever you like, Spencer. You're still coming in. You have five minutes."

Shawn glared at Lassiter's retreating form as he left the room. "I don't understand how he can be so callous. So uncaring! God!" Shawn lifted himself into a standing position. His face turned red, as he paced around the small opening in front of the couch. His eyes didn't dare dart in the direction of the body bag that now held his father's body. "I know that he never liked me. I get that, but he did like my dad. At least occasionally. I don't understand—I can't fathom." Shawn sighed, as his body gave up on the anger that had overwhelmed him, and he collapsed onto the couch. "I just want to believe that this whole thing is some horrible nightmare, Jules. I want to wake up and everything will be back to the way it was. Things might not have been perfect, and my father and I might not have been on speaking terms—but at least he was alive!"

Juliet sighed, feeling as if she was being pulled in two different directions. Even if Shawn couldn't see why Carlton was acting the way he was, Juliet could. He hadn't come out and said it, but Shawn was a suspect. In fact, due to how the crime scene looked, Shawn was the prime suspect. There was no reason right now, no evidence to point at anyone other than Shawn. Then again, Juliet couldn't let herself believe that Shawn would, or could murder his father. No matter how upset they were at each other. Juliet couldn't just overlook the facts, just because they pointed at her husband, but she couldn't just give up on Shawn either. They had to be missing something.

* * *

"The gun we found-"

"In my hand. It's my father's personal weapon. He generally keeps it in a lockbox in his night stand by his bed."

Lassiter ran a hand over his face. "So you know where the gun was kept?"

Shawn laughed mirthlessly. "Yes, detective. I grew up in that house, of course I know where he keeps his damn gun."

"The attitude isn't helping, Shawn."

A sneer crossed Shawn's face. "You are accusing me of killing my father. I'll have whatever attitude I want. I will jaunt around the room on a pretend horse named Tonto if I want. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to finish this _**non **_interrogation so that I can plan my father's funeral."

Lassiter sighed. "Can you recount what happened prior to your father being shot?"

Shawn's hand smacked down hard on the table. The interrogation room seemed to be shrinking with each question thrown at him. Carlton Lassiter, king of all things gruff and down right mean, was being soft with his questioning. That by itself was enough to disconcert anyone, however the detective's continued use of Shawn's first name seemed to throw the world on its axis. If he wasn't confused enough, not only by his father's apparent murder, but by Lassiter's weird behavior, the questions Lassiter was asking seemed to only throw Shawn's world into further turmoil.

"What are you asking me? If I shot my father? Just come off it! Stop beating around the damn bush. I might not be a cop, Carlton, but I damn well won't take any half questions. If you want to know if I shot my father, then ask me. Otherwise, go on to the next subject, because none of these questions make sense!"

Shawn ran his hands through his hair, though typically sculpted, was now in disarray. As he peered at the dumbfounded detective, he let his fingers linger at the ends of a few strands of his neatly cut hair. Yanking slightly, if only to feel something similar to normal. The pain from the pulling seemed to help calm his frazzled nerves slightly.

"Okay, Shawn. Did you shoot your father?" Lassiter's hands were sitting atop each other in front of him on the table.

Shawn's eyes bore deeply into Lassiter's as he answered the question. "No. I did not shoot my father."

Lassiter merely nodded his head, but Shawn saw through the wall that he had attempted to put up. The truth that he was trying to hide, was that Carlton Lassiter didn't believe Shawn. Though, Shawn knew that Lassiter didn't necessarily _**want**_ to believe Shawn did it, but the evidence didn't lie. Shawn and Henry were the only people in the house. There was no sign of forced entry, and the gun was found in Shawn's hand. It didn't help that Shawn couldn't place anything that happened from the time that he had fallen asleep on the couch to waking up on the floor. All of this made sense to Shawn. Hell, if he wasn't the person of interest in this case, he would be looking for anyway to permanently lock up the accused. It was what he did all the time, however it was all so different when you're the one being accused. Especially when the crime is murdering your own father.

"Shawn, can you explain to me why there was a gun in your hand? A gun, that I'm fairly certain will come back as the one used to shoot your father."

Shawn sighed, his head lulling forward. Letting his head smack against his arms, he huffed. Frustration and grief were a mixture for disaster. Shawn could feel it all balling up. If he didn't get out of this stupid, small, shrinking room soon, he'd explode. How wonderful that would look.

"No." Shawn mumbled against his arm. His face was on fire, and he could feel his breathing hitch slightly. He'd had this feeling one other time. The only time he had ever saw his mother mad at him. He had broken an antique lamp. The thing was as ugly as most of the shirts his father wore, but it was some sort of family heirloom. She had screamed at him, and Shawn had felt like his lungs were going to explode. He had nearly fainted from lack of oxygen, and his mother had explained that he was experiencing a panic attack.

Shawn's head lifted as sweat rolled down his face. His breathing hitched just a little more and he could feel his eyes go wide. Lassiter was saying something, but Shawn couldn't hear what he was saying. All he could hear was the blood pounding inside his ears. His vision was growing blurry at the edges. With as badly as it was burning, Shawn felt like his chest might explode. His head slid forward once more, seeking something cool, something that would take the burning from his body. His eyes slowly drooped close. He felt someone's hand on his back, and words were being shouted, but all Shawn cared about at that moment was for the pain that was building up inside of him to disappear. Slowly darkness descended on him and everything turned hazy before disappearing completely.

* * *

Juliet twirled a strand of hair between two fingers. Her leg bounced up and down as she watched Shawn. For the second time that day, Shawn had lost consciousness. She was fearful that he was having some kind of delayed reaction to his injuries. Hence, the paramedics were called. Vitals were taken and Shawn was given a nearly clean bill of health. The paramedics had explained that Shawn had suffered from a severe panic attack. A moan from the cot cause her attention to revert back to the present.

"Jules?" Shawn's voice was raspy. His eyes shone the sadness that he wouldn't let show and she knew that he remembered everything before his panic attack.

"How are you feeling?" Juliet leaned forward, her arm draped slightly over her stomach, as her other hand reached out and grazed against Shawn's arm. To anyone it would seem like a simply normal action, but to Juliet it was a slightly protective gesture.

"My head hurts, but I'm okay. I just—Lassiter can't believe I did it. Can he?"

Juliet sighed, recoiling her hand. She knew that Shawn wanted her to be honest with him, but at the same time, she knew that if she was he would get upset.

"Shawn-"

His eyes flashed with hurt before settling on anger. "Not you too!"

Juliet shook her head. "You don't understand, Shawn! I am in such a horrible position. On one hand I have my husband who is looking like the prime suspect in his own father's murder. On the other hand, if this was anyone else I wouldn't even think twice before bringing them in and interrogating them. This isn't easy on you. I know that, Shawn, but it's not easy on me either!"

Shawn sighed, as he pushed himself into a sitting position. "I didn't do it."

"I believe you, Shawn. It's not me you have to convince. Especially since I am officially off the case. Chief Vick is assigning Carlton a temporary partner as we speak. Someone new. Just transferred in from Chicago. So, I believe you. It's Vick, Carlton and his new partner you have to convince."

Shawn stood up from the cot and realized where he was. "Am I under arrest?" His eyebrow cocked suspiciously.

"Not—technically. It's just—You have a history of running—You've been subpoenaed as a hostile witness until the investigation-"

Shawn nodded. "So basically they are holding me until they can officially arrest me. Awesome. Look, Jules. You believe me, right?"

Juliet nodded. "I do."

"Good, then I need you to help me prove it! Obviously I am not going anywhere outside of this lovely eight by eight cell. So I need you to be my eyes and ears. Look into my dad's past cases, hell, look into my past cases. Try to find a connection, any connection. Just prove that there is some doubt that it was me. Anything that can help get me out of here so that I can investigate this thing. I am not going anywhere, not with the fact that my dad's killer is still out there. Please—help me." Tears sprang to Shawn's eyes.

Juliet took his hand and nodded. Rising to her feet, Juliet pressed her lips to his forehead. "I will do everything I can. I will do anything I can do. I love you, Shawn."

"Love you too, Jules."

She smiled sadly before exiting his jail cell. The door clanged behind her and she refused to turn around to look at him. Keeping the tears in place, she walked swiftly from the holding cells and made her way toward the exit. She hadn't been lying. She was going to do everything in her power to prove Shawn didn't do this, because there is no way he did. Just no way.


	8. Chapter 8

Shawn sighed as he shifted his position for the fifth time in an hour. His back snuggled against the wall letting his head lulled to the right. He let his head rest against the wall as his eyes slowly drifted close. He could vaguely hear commotion coming from the hallway that connected the holding cells to the interrogation rooms. Shawn was fairly certain he was about to have company, and from the grunts and groans accompanying his new companion, Shawn was fairly certain that whoever it was happened to be drunk.

"Hold still, dammit."

The voice of the officer only sounded vaguely familiar, and most of the officers that he knew didn't use that kind of attitude toward possible prisoners. Unless of course it was Lassiter—or the guy was a real scumbag. Public intoxication didn't seem to be on the list of scumbag moves.

"McNab!"

Shawn felt bad for the younger officer, always being ordered around like that had to take its toll. However, he was always there, ready and willing to help. That's why Buzz McNab would forever be one of his favorite uniformed officers.

"Yes, sir?"

"Take this piece of scum to the first holding cell. Bastard puked all over me."

Shawn stifled a laugh at that. At least DrunkyMcPukeyPants got in a good shot. Then Shawn's nose wrinkled as he realized that pukey was going to be shoved in the same cell as himself. Shawn could only hope that Nabby would put pukey in his own cell, because Shawn was fairly certain that his own turbulent stomach couldn't handle seeing anyone else's insides.

"Come on, in here." McNab came into the holding cells toting a man that appeared unable to hold himself up. He jammed a key into Shawn's cell and turned it before pulling the door open. "Sorry, Shawn. Garrison only gave me the key for this cell."

Shawn just nodded. "It's okay, Nabby. Hopefully I won't be here long."

McNabb nodded. "Is there new evidence?"

Shawn tried not to glare at Buzz. He knew that the younger man was only looking out for himself. The evidence pointed it's big bony finger at Shawn. "No, but Jules won't give up until she finds something."

Buzz smiled. "Just so you know, Shawn. None of us believe you did it. I know that you didn't have a great relationship with your dad. Hell, everyone knew that, but we know that you'd never go so far as to kill him."

Shawn smiled sadly. "Thanks, Buzz. It's nice to know I have people on my side. I'm pretty sure I alienated Lassiter from my side."

Buzz simply nodded as he lead the drunken man into the cell. "Shawn, this is Gary Jones."

Shawn's nose wrinkled slightly. The man smelt of fresh vomit and it made his stomach churn. Suddenly Shawn's eyes widen. That name—where had he heard that name before.

* * *

Juliet stared at the pictures that had been taken at the crime scene. Nothing really stuck out. Henry's body didn't appear to have been moved, and Shawn's body was merely a few feet from Henry's body. Though nothing specific stood out about the photos or the scene, she felt like she was missing something, and had to wonder if that's how Shawn felt when he was investigating as well. Thinking about her husband made her heart ache. Loading the same pictures on her computer, she pulled up them up and did a quick glance through.

Three of the photos were causing her pause. Those three made her check them over longer, and those were the only three that made her feel like she was overlooking something important. Zooming in on the images one at a time, she examined them closer. That's when she noticed two things that didn't correspond with the crime. First was the way that the bodies were lying. If Shawn had been standing, his back would have been to his father. Though this wasn't enough by itself. Shawn merely could have realized what he did, and turned around and passed out. That alone would not take Shawn off the main suspect list.

However, the second inconsistency would be better to achieve that. The gun hung loosely from Shawn's hand. His fingers were not curved around the butt of the gun, and his finger was nowhere near the trigger. While that could have happened when he passed out, Juliet was fairly certain that it was enough reasonable doubt to make them look elsewhere.

Grabbing her phone, Juliet dialed Lassiter's phone, while wondering why her lanky partner was not at his desk. Two rings sounded in her ear.

"Lassiter."

"Carlton, where are you?"

A groan sounded from Lassiter's line, "I am in the bathroom, if that's okay with you."

Juliet rolled her eyes. "Look, I found something in the crime scene photos."

Lassiter grumbled something unintelligible. "Be there in a minute." No goodbye, just a dial tone.

Juliet rolled her eyes again, before setting the phone back into its cradle. She glanced over the remaining photographs and gasped when she noticed something else. A muddy boot print ingrained in the carpet by the back window. A test of both Henry and Shawn's shoes could clear Shawn's name faster than her gun theory.

* * *

Shawn sighed uncomfortably, as Gary leaned his lean, yet heavy body against him. The man, who was undoubtedly unconscious sighed contently and called out for a _**Lisa**_. Shawn crossed his arms against his chest, as he used his elbow and shoulder to try to push the drunk man off of him.

"Dude, you reek! Get off." Shawn groaned as he full fledged pushed the man off of him.

"Lisa, love me back!" The man yelled out, his eyes closed. His breath reeked of alcohol, but something seemed off. Aside from the trying too hard to be drunk thing. That's when it hit him. Whole his breath stank of alcohol, nothing else did. Shawn had been on the waking end of a drinking binge, and everything always stinks of alcohol.

"Dude, you're a total faker! You're not drunk." Shawn huffed. Suddenly, Gary's eyes blasted open, and Shawn fell backward off of the bench he was sitting on. Shawn stared into Gary's green eyes and saw something familiar in them. Something he had seen before. It was starting to click, slowly.

"Wow, you are one smart cookie, Shawn Spencer. Fake psychic, correct? It's about time you end up in prison, psychic Shawn."

Shawn stood up, his hands in front of him. "Hey, come on. Let's just—let's talk about this."

Gary smirked at him. "Oh, we're gonna have a nice little chat, Shawn. Then I'm gonna have to kill you."

Those words haunted Shawn's dreams. The voice in front of him sounded vaguely familiar, however, when it was coupled with those specific words it all clicked into place. Shawn had known he had a son, and Shawn was fairly certain that he had heard the name Gary Jones before. Now it all clicked into place like a perfect little puzzle.

"You're his son." Shawn spoke, his voice nonchalant, even as his insides shook.

The smile on Gary's face only grew in size. "That I am. For the last month and a half I've sat in my apartment, staring at pictures of my father. My dead father! Wondering how I was going to get back at the man whose fault it was that my father was dead. I thought on it for the longest time. I had two options. Option number one was that I could kill you, but that didn't really send the message I felt I needed to convey. Option number two was to kill your father-" The smile on Gary's face turned into a sneer. "Then I realized how amazing it would be to not only to kill your father, but to have you take the fall for it. Of course, after it was all said and done, I realized that nosy little wife of yours wouldn't let her precious husband go to prison without being a hundred percent sure that you had actually done it. So, I went to a bar and drowned my failed sorrows. That's when part two of my plan formed."

The look on Gary's face was a cross between pure happiness and pure hatred.

"Do I need to ask what part two is, Gary?"

Gary laughed heartily. "Well of course it involves killing you. Perhaps, I'll kill that adorable little wife of yours too. Who knows. I might just take out your entire friends and family list. I'm a little irritated with you, Shawn. You killed my father, and for that you must pay."

Shawn groaned. "Listen, Nutcase Gary. Your father tried to kill me. He stabbed me six times in the stomach. I only just now started to get back onto my feet. If my 'friends' hadn't came in when they did, I probably would be dead right now."

The smile that crossed Gary's face was scary to say the least. "Well there's a warm and cozy thought. Too bad it's only a thought—for now."

* * *

"O'Hara! What is all this about-" Juliet glared at Lassiter. "Oh no. I will not call you—Not happening. You are O'Hara."

Juliet sighed. "Look at these photos, I have the areas marked that I want you to examine. Pull it up to about 300% zoom." Lassiter did as she told him. A grunt and groan later, he looked from the computer screen and back at Juliet. "I know that the direction of the bodies and the gun alone aren't enough evidence to pull Shawn from the suspect list. However, if you direct your attention here." Juliet pointed at the boot print just under the back window.

"Wait a second-"

"I figured if we test Henry and Shawn's shoes for mud-"

Lassiter stared at Juliet, his mouth slightly agape. "Are you saying there was a third person in that house?"

"I am saying it's a definite possibility. That third person could quite possibly be our murderer."

Lassiter stood up and strode toward the chief's office. Juliet followed closely behind him.

* * *

Shawn took a step back as Gary's eyes glazed over as he advanced on Shawn. "Look, Gary-" The rest of his sentence got stuck in his mouth and died on his tongue, as Gary's fist collided with Shawn's face. "Dammit!" Shawn gasped as he gripped his jaw. "That hurt!"

"Look, Shawn. If you're quiet, I will leave the rest of your friends and family out of this." Shawn stared blankly at Gary as he continued to advance toward him.

Gary's fist reared back and Shawn ducked the punch coming toward him. Diving forward, Shawn threw his weight into Gary, and groaned when they both collided hard with the concrete floor. Gary reached over and punched Shawn in the chest. The breath seemed to disappear from Shawn, as he began to gasp for air. Standing back up, Gary started to kick Shawn's side. First his left side, repeatedly. Five times, before stepping over the groaning man and kicking his unprotected right side. The last kick was so forceful it actually moved Shawn across the floor. Tears streamed from Shawn's eyes as he peeked up at his attacker. A smile crossed Gary's face and he pulled his leg back and kick Shawn in the stomach. Shawn gagged loudly at the pain that shot throughout his midsection.

Footsteps could be heard running down the hall toward the holding cells. Gary glared at Shawn. "You're pitiful groaning was too loud, Shawnie." Gary's boot lifted off the floor and smashed hard into the side of Shawn's head.

Shawn's vision blurred around the edges. The holding cell spun without Shawn's control. Just as Gary's foot pulled back to kick Shawn in the face, black shoes came into view.

"Stop!" Shawn had never been so happy to hear Buzz McNab's voice before. Though he came a little too late as Gary's boot snapped forward and connected with Shawn's face. Graying vision turned into deep blackness, and quickly Shawn was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

_Once again. Huge thanks to Susannanass for being the most amazing and generally prompt beta ever! You're the best! Now, enjoy! _

* * *

Juliet felt like she wanted to throw something. Though the boot print was enough evidence for them to look elsewhere, Shawn was still the prime suspect. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, as they were finally excused from the chief's office. Lassiter was given strict orders that included making sure that Juliet stayed out of the investigation. Juliet was given strict orders to leave the station or be put on suspension. Sighing, she stopped short and felt as Lassiter's tall, lanky body rammed into hers.

"O'Hara, what the hell?"

Juliet turned slightly and looked at her partner. "I just wanted to ask, if it's okay, if I go down and see Shawn before I leave." It wasn't perfect timing, not at all, but Juliet wanted Shawn to know the truth before he quite possibly went to prison.

"I'm sorry, O'Hara. I have strict orders to ensure that you leave the premises and stay out of the investigation. This isn't just your job we're talking about here. Besides, my temporary partner will be here shortly."

"Just five minutes, Carlton. It's very important."

Lassiter sighed as he ran a hand through his short graying hair. "O'Hara—I don't know." He kicked at an imaginary clump of dirt. "You heard the chief."

"And if I told her it was important she would let me. You know that. She's not that heartless." Juliet bit her lip, realizing how close she still was to the chief's office.

"If you want to go down there—without asking Chief Vick yourself, then you're going to have to tell me first. I need to know that it is indeed important."

Juliet gaped at Lassiter for a moment. "It is important, Carlton. Not to mention, personal. Something between myself and my husband. I will not be bullied into telling you something private about our lives!" Juliet stamped her foot when she was finished, like adding her own personal exclamation point.

"If you want to see him, then you're going to have to tell me." Lassiter crossed his arms over his chest, and glared at his partner.

Sighing, Juliet threw her arms up. "Fine!" She quickly hushed her tone. "I wanted to tell my husband that I'm pregnant."

Lassiter's mouth dropped. His eyes were wide. "Your-what?"

"Pregnant. Do you think that's important enough? I'd kind of like to tell him about it before he's shuffled away in prison for a murder that both of us know that he didn't commit!"

Lassiter nodded, his mouth still slightly agape. "I have to come with you though-"

Groaning, Juliet rolled her eyes. Of course he did. "Whatever!" Juliet quickly turned on her heel and walked down the hallway. Her heels clicked against the floor as she descended the stairs and made the correct turn and entered the holding cell area. Instantly, she knew that something was off. She stopped abruptly, before turning toward Lassiter.

"Who is on guard duty?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"McNab—why?" His eyebrow quirked slightly.

Juliet gulped lightly. Her hand grazed against her issued weapon, quietly pulling it from it's holster. Her finger released the safety as she emerged further into the room. The door to the first holding cell. Shawn's holding cell, was open. Her stomach rolled uncomfortably as she peered into the opened cell and felt her heart clench. For the second time within two days, Shawn Spencer was sprawled out on the ground, unconscious. This time, however, blood was seeping from various places. Mainly his nose and mouth. Near the opening of the cell lay Buzz McNab. A small puddle of blood seemed to pool under his head.

"Dammit!" Lassiter screamed. Quickly, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a familiar number. "Chief, get some officers down to the holding cells now! Call an ambulance!" With that, he disconnected the call before kneeling down beside Buzz McNab. "He was hit in the head. It's not a deep wound, but it was in a sensitive spot."

Juliet nodded numbly as she walked forward on trembling legs. She nearly fell down beside Shawn, her hands roamed uselessly over his battered body. She noticed that Shawn was indeed breathing, but his breathing was slightly hitched. Quickly, she grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted the fabric. A relieved sigh sounded from her lips. The wounds on his upper torso were still closed, however there were some ugly bruising on his sides. At the very least, he had some bruised ribs, but with the way he was breathing she was certain that they were at least cracked, if not broken. With a sigh, Juliet removed her suit jacket and pressed it against Shawn's face. The lack of acknowledgment of her touch sent tendrils of fear racing down her spine.

Lassiter repeated her gesture by removing his suit jacket before carefully rolling Buzz onto his back, and pressing the cloth against the still oozing wound. "McNab is out cold, though I don't think his injuries are severe. How about Spencer?"

Juliet barely lifted her gaze to Lassiter, before returning to Shawn's. "Possible broken ribs, definite concussion and possible broken nose."

"Nothing too life threatening then."

Juliet didn't say anything. She could only hope that Lassiter was right. Shouting could be heard down the corridor, and the noise was growing louder.

"Oh, good Lord. What happened?" Chief Vick was one of the first of the officers that entered the room. Most of the rest stood outside of the holding cell, that was crowded enough with the injured parties and those taking care of them.

"I came down to say goodbye to Shawn. Lassiter came with me to make sure I didn't loiterer, and we found them like this."

"Where is the other prisoner? Uh—Gary Jones."

The voice came from near the middle of the pack of officers. Juliet couldn't place the voice instantly, and didn't particularly care about that right now. "There was no other prisoner. Officer McNab and Shawn were the only people in the cell-" Juliet paused. "Damn!"

"Detective?" The chief's eyebrow cocked slightly.

"The holding cell door was open when we came in."

Chief Vick cursed under her breath. "Officer Garrison, grab a couple of guys and canvass the area. This—Gary Jones, is the man that attacked both Mr. Spencer and Officer McNab."

Juliet looked up helplessly at the chief, with Shawn's head cradled in her lap. She couldn't help feeling like she was living in deja vu. Minus multiple pints of blood.

* * *

Juliet sat perched on the ugly, uncomfortable orange chair. Hospital waiting rooms were not meant to placate comfort. Her mind constantly stuck in the past. Images from the scene she had found at Henry's house. A scene that would continue to haunt her dreams for days and months to come. All the way to finding Shawn's unconscious form in his holding cell. Lassiter had all but forced her into the ambulance that was taking Shawn to the hospital. Not that she wasn't willing to go, but the guy that had beaten Shawn was missing. He had escaped, and Juliet knew that her time would be better utilized out on the streets, looking for Gary Jones. Then again, Gus still hadn't made it back into town yet, and she didn't want Shawn to be alone. Lassiter apparently didn't either. Not when he had dragged her out behind the gurney carrying Shawn, and was ready to all but shove her into the back of the ambulance.

"_Go with him." _

_She wanted to. So badly, yet the professional in her wanted to stay behind and locate the bastard that had done this to Shawn in the first place. _

"_You can use me, and you know it!" _

"_O'Hara. Think about this! Jones is still out there. Now, he obviously did this to Spencer for a reason. As far as we know, it could have something to do with what happened at Henry's. Maybe whoever actually killed Henry is afraid that Spencer will remember. Whatever the reason, I highly doubt that his motive was to simply beat Spencer up a little bit. You know, just as well as I do. When a suspect doesn't finish the job the first go round, they show up to finish it later. If you want to be helpful, O'Hara, then make sure that your child has a father, and keep Spencer safe. When he wakes up, take his statement. You'll be his in-room guard, and we'll have someone perched outside the room as well. The same will go for McNab. Just—go!" _

That had been nearly an hour ago. Fear was slowly creeping back up, taking over her usual calm. If Shawn's injuries were as minor as Lassiter thought they might be, then why was she still sitting in the waiting room—waiting? The sheer thought that anything other than, a few bruised or broken ribs and a broken nose, made her insides crawl. The minutes seemed to crawl by slowly. One minute here, two minutes there, until finally the door on her right opened, and a doctor slowly trotted in her direction.

"Family of Shawn Spencer?"

The sheer fact that he had asked that, when she alone, sitting in the waiting room made her fearful of Shawn's chances under this doctor. Standing up, Juliet walked the short distance to the doctor.

"I'm his wife."

"Mrs. Spencer. I'm Dr. Wingham, and I oversaw your husband's care."

Juliet nodded. "How is he?"

"Mr. Spencer sustained multiple broken ribs on his right side, with multiple cracked and bruised ribs on his left. His breathing was slightly erratic, not unusual with rib traumas, however, we did take an x-ray to rule out any puncture wounds in his lung. When we didn't locate any, we went ahead and wrapped his ribs to help with his breathing. We had a surgeon look at Mr. Spencer's nose. While it is broken, it is not in need of surgery. What has given us the most pause, Mrs. Spencer, is your husband's head injury. He received a fairly severe kick to the head, that has caused some brain swelling. Not surprising with head injuries. Since the swelling isn't progressing, we've decided against surgery—for now. Right now, we are fairly certain that placing him under a medically induced coma for a few days to monitor both his brain function and the swelling is the best move. If the swelling doesn't decrease or it starts to get worse, we will have to revisit the idea of surgery. For now, he is stable, but critical."

Juliet placed a hand against her mouth to keep a sob from escaping. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she was able to gain some composure. "Can I see him?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes. I was just talking with your boss, Karen Vick, she informed me that you are to be stationed inside Mr. Spencer's room. So, if you'll follow me, Mrs. Spencer."

* * *

Lassiter slammed his hand against his desk hard. All initial searches on Gary Jones returned absolutely nothing. Of course it was fake name. Running a hand over his face, Lassiter sighed. By the time Officer Garrison and his men started the initial canvass, there was no sign of the man that Officer Garrison described as _explicitly drunk_, obviously Officer Garrison was wrong. Though, Lassiter had to give the young officer some props, he knew enough to stay the hell away from Lassiter.

"Excuse me, Detective Lassiter."

Ah, thought too soon, apparently. Carlton Lassiter turned in his chair, and darkened his glare as he peered into the eyes of Officer Garrison. "What?" His sharp tone sent Garrison backward a couple of steps.

"I was just thinking-"

"Really? You can do that? Obviously you can't-"

Officer Garrison's adam's apple bobbed uncomfortably as he stared back at Lassiter. "Please, sir. Just hear me out."

Lassiter sighed. "Fine."

"I was thinking that none of this added up. Gary Jones—or whatever his name is. He was drunk when I brought him in. He reeked of alcohol, he couldn't walk under his own power and the bastard threw up on me. So he was drunk—or at the very least had been drinking. Anyway, I tried to wrack my brain to come up with a solution as to _**why**_ he would beat up Shawn. Then I heard that maybe, this might have something to do with Mr. Spencer's death-"

Lassiter threw up a hand. "It's merely a thought, Officer Garrison. We were in the process of finding new evidence that pointed at the possibility of someone other than Spencer and his father being in the house at the time of the murder. That's all there is to it right now-"

"I understand, sir, but I went ahead and looked into the possibility. Obviously without knowing the suspects real name, we don't have a lot to go on, as to why he would target the Spencers. It could either be someone from Henry or Shawn's past. Someone that they help put behind bars. However, this was a younger guy, younger even than Shawn, so that helped me eliminate Henry's past cases from the mixture. So I looked into Shawn's newer cases-"

Lassiter sighed, his eyes rolled. "Please, Officer Garrison. The point."

"The last case that Shawn was on before he was—let go. The Holden Marshall case."

Ah, just hearing that name sent chills of anger throughout Lassiter's body. Lying, disgusting bastard. Dead or not, that guy could still send of Lassiter's creeper alarm.

"What about it?"

Officer Garrison sat a folder in front of Lassiter. It was open, and showed the picture of young man. His brown hair cropped close to his head, and his eyes were small—almost beady in size. Lassiter never trusted a man with beady eyes.

"This is Holden Marshall's oldest son. Garrett Marshall. He's twenty-three years old, and he was sitting in Shawn's holding cell just a few hours earlier."

"Wait a minute. Are you saying that Gary Jones—is Garrett Marshall—Holden Marshall's son?"

Officer Garrison nodded his head. "I'm saying exactly that."

* * *

_Oh yeah, it's all coming together. It's been a little-drab and dull (according to my standards) as of late. Don't worry-action-whumping-extremely frustrating cliffhangers... oh and most importantly-GUS IS RETURNING. Until next time! _


	10. Chapter 10

Juliet swiped a hand against her cheeks, drying the few lingering tears. Lassiter had called an hour earlier explaining that they had no new information on Gary Jones. The man that had beat Shawn into a medically induced coma was roaming around free, and quite possibly could come to the hospital looking to finish the job that he hadn't had a chance to finish.

Shaking her head, Juliet awkwardly pulled her knees up onto the chair she had been perched on for almost two hours. Her chin leaned heavily on her knees, as she watched her husband. Breathing tube was sticking out of his mouth, and the numerous machines that he was hooked up to beeped in rhythm with each other. The room was too white and smelt far too clean. It was all a little medically claustrophobic for her.

Sighing, she dropped her feet to the floor and stood up. Pacing the floor in front of her chair, Juliet started to rant. "Shawn, this is all my fault. I knew you didn't do it, and I should have fought harder for you. I mean, you were a consultant for years. That ought to mean something, but no, they cast you out first thing. Lock you up. Hostile witness thing was bullshit. We both knew it, and I let them do it. I let them lock you up." Juliet sank back into the chair. "Oh god. It's all my fault. Every last thing that has happened in the last twenty-four hours is all my fault. I should have known that Carlton was full of shit when he said I had backed up paperwork that needed done. I am so-" Juliet sighed, as her head fell forward for a moment, before she peered at Shawn's pale face from underneath her hair. "I am sorry, Shawn. I am so sorry."

* * *

Gus walked into the station, a certain purpose in his steps. No one had seen fit to call him when they found his best friend unconscious in the holding cell that _**they**_ saw fit to put him in. Hell, no one had saw fit to call him to explain that Shawn's father had been murdered and that Shawn was lead suspect. Sometimes this place and the people in it utterly pissed Gus off. Keeping important things from him, even if he wasn't technically a consultant for the police anymore.

"Lassiter." Gus's voice dripped with acid.

Lassiter spun on his heel, his eyes poured anger and his hand steadied on its way down to his pistol. Officer's Garrison stared at Gus for a moment, the utter anger pouring from the young man was unusual to them.

"What do you want, Guster. I don't have time for this."

Gus walked up to Lassiter, his arms crossed firmly across his chest with a smug look on his face. He was getting answers if it was the last thing he did. "I don't care what you have time for. How _**dare**_ you not call me! Shawn is my best friend and my partner! I had a right to know that he was the prime suspect in his father's murder! How-"

Lassiter held up a hand, his head shaking as anger seethed off of the elder detective. "Don't you dare start harking on me, Guster! I have been working my ass off. First trying to find any tiny shred of evidence that didn't point to Spencer, because we both know that he didn't kill his father. Spencer just isn't wired that way. Now add on to that the fact that someone decided to use Spencer as a punching bag, and deemed it safe to escape police custody afterward."

Gus sighed, his arms still folded across his chest, though they sagged slightly in defeat. "Can I help?"

Lassiter shook his head. "No. I already have one civilian in the hospital, I don't need another. Why don't you go sit with O'Hara. She's on guard duty until we find this bastard, and in her current status-"

Gus eyed Lassiter carefully. "Status?"

Lassiter realized his mistake. "Just drop it. I didn't say anything. Just help her go look after your idiot best friend. God knows she'll need it, in a coma or not." Lassiter sighed, as he realized his second mistake.

"Coma!" Gus's eyes darted around the room. "What in the hell." Gus kicked an invisible clump of dirt. "Look, I want a shot at that bastard when you catch him.

Lassiter's lips pulled up slightly at the corners. "No can do, Guster."

Gus glared at Lassiter for a moment. "Then tell me what is going on with Juliet! You can't keep me in the dark about everything!"

Lassiter sighed. "This is to stay on the down-low." Lassiter waited until Gus nodded his head. "She's pregnant."

Gus' eyes widen slightly, before he slowly grew angry again. "You have to let me help!"

"No, now go."

Sighing, Gus threw up his arms and turned to leave. Keys in his hand, Gus walked swiftly toward his car, with Lassiter's words ringing in his ear. Shawn was in a coma. That guy had beaten him so badly that he put Shawn in a coma. Tears pricked at the edges of Gus's eyes as realization finally settled in. His best friend may never wake up again.

* * *

Lassiter groaned as he watched Gus's retreating form. As soon as the younger man was far enough out of earshot, he yelled at Officer Garrison. The young officer bounded up next to him.

"Yes, Detective Lassiter?"

Lassiter sneered that the younger man for a moment. "Do we have an address for Garrett Marshall?"

Garrison stared down at the file in his hand. "Well, see, that's the problem. The current address on Marshall's driver's license is outdated. That entire neighborhood sold their properties to the city and has been demolished and turned into a strip mall."

Lassiter huffed, his face turning an odd shade of red. Officer Garrison took a step back, as Lassiter's hand fluttered near his service weapon.

"Okay, Officer Garrison. Do we have any idea where Garrett Marshall is taking up residence now?" His voice a little harsher than normal. He was at the end of his rope, a little quicker than normal. While Shawn Spencer tended to be a gigantic thorn in his side, this was a whole different story. For once, Lassiter found himself actually feeling sorry for Spencer, which went against his whole ideology.

"I spoke to a Mr. Riker. He was the landowner of the property that Garrett Marshall lived at. Mr. Riker told me that Garrett had spoken of moving in with his mother."

Lassiter nodded. "Yes, Mrs. Marshall hasn't been in a very good state of mind since everything that happened with her ex-husband. The two didn't get along well, but she had never imagined that Holden would actually go to the length of killing his business partner. She's had a tough time with accepting that fact." He sighed. "McNab is still in the hospital so Officer Garrison, I want you to grab Officer Ripley and a squad car and meet me and my new partner at Mrs. Marshall's residence. You will stay in the squad car unless I say so. You hear me?"

Officer Garrison nodded. "Yes, sir!"

"Good. Go."

Lassiter turned toward O'Hara's desk and scowled. He hadn't even spoken a word to his new partner. Now was as good a time as any. "Detective."

The younger man's head snapped up. "Yes, Detective Lassiter?"

Lassiter grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. "Let's head out."

The younger man smiled as he stood up. His movements mirrored Lassiter as he slid his arms back into his suit jacket. "You can call me, Detective Larson."

Lassiter nodded his head. "Sure."

* * *

Juliet paced the floor in front of Shawn's hospital bed. The fact that Shawn was being so quiet and still was disconcerting. Shawn was never still or quiet. Even when he had been in the hospital for what Holden Marshall had done to him, he at least had talked everyone's ear off. This wasn't normal, and it was grating on her nerves. Mainly because Juliet blamed herself for Shawn's current predicament.

She had believed that Shawn hadn't murdered his father, but just like Carlton, she couldn't ignore the certain evidence that had piled up against him. Juliet had never felt more disgusted with herself in her life. Looking at Shawn's pale face, nearly the same color as the sheet that covered his still body, she felt as her stomach tumbled around uncomfortably.

Eying the clock, she groaned. It was entering the time that her morning sickness generally kicked her ass. Placing a protective hand on her stomach, she sent up a silent prayer that her stomach would be cooperative.

"Please—no throwing up tonight. Please."

She sighed, as her stomach rumbled around uncomfortably. Sitting back down, Juliet grabbed the magazine she had just flipped through moments earlier. Carlton had called with an update nearly ten minutes ago. They had figured out that Gary Jones was actually Garrett Marshall and was obviously holding a grudge against Shawn for his father's death. Carlton was also leaning toward Garrett having something to do with Henry's death. The thought brought tears to her eyes, as the guilt overwhelmed her again. They had blamed Shawn for something as heinous as murdering his father, when it was likely it had something to do with a case that Juliet knew still haunted Shawn.

Carlton had also informed her that Gus was on his way over to the hospital to keep her company. That made her feel a little better. At least someone would be there to hold her accountable for her involvement in this nightmare. Though, Juliet hadn't been quite ready to feel the wrath of Gus, which in all reality could be kind of scary if he got mad enough, she had asked Carlton to have Gus stop off at her and Shawn's to grab a change of clothes and a book for her to read.

She was starting to get antsy. In all reality Gus should be here by now, but then she realized that it was almost rush hour, which meant he was probably stuck in traffic. The door to Shawn's room squeaked open, and a nurse walked in.

"Mrs. Spencer, we've brought you some dinner."

Juliet nodded her acceptance. Even if she didn't even feel like eating. Juliet knew that she would be wolfing the food down within the next few hours after her morning sickness dissipated. "Thank you."

The nurse nodded, and sat the tray down in front of Juliet. The smell from the food sent her stomach into numerous uncomfortable rolls. Groaning, the nurse had already snuck back out of the room. She was alone again. With no other choice, Juliet threw a hand over her mouth as she ran as quickly as she could to the bathroom. Leaving the door open, so she could at least attempt to keep an eye on Shawn, Juliet fell to her knees and leaned over the white porcelain bowl. Her stomach heaved twice, before she was able to catch her breath. The door to Shawn's room squeaked open again.

"Just shut the door, Gus."

With that Juliet leaned back over the bowl as the remainder of the contents of her stomach emptied themselves into the bowl in front of her.

* * *

Gus groaned, his thumbs tapping the steering wheel. He was only a couple of blocks from the hospital, and yet he had been in the same position for what felt like an eternity. Rolling his eyes, he begged the red light to switch to green for the fifth time, while at the same time he cursed rush hour traffic. Even if he planned on starting his night at the hospital by yelling at Juliet for being a horrible friend to him and an even worse wife to Shawn, he knew that he'd end up talking and asking her about her pregnancy. Did Shawn know? How far along was she and most important, how could she keep this from him?

"Change!" Gus blinked his eyes, and wished at that moment that he had super awesome magic powers. When the light didn't change, he groaned again, his head falling against the steering wheel. Rush hour traffic in Santa Barbara was enough to drive a man insane.

Beeping resounded behind him, as Gus jerked his head back up. While thanking the heavens that the light changed color, Gus placed his foot against the accelerator and took off. The next two lights were also green, a smile crept on Gus' face as he pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. Finding a spot quickly, Gus parked and removed the keys before grabbing the small bag he had brought from Shawn and Juliet's. A couple of changes of clothes and a few books and magazines for Juliet to read through.

Walking with purpose, Gus entered the hospital and got Shawn's room number from the very helpful, beautiful, young nurse. As he turned to walk toward the elevator, Gus flicked his thumb against the tip of his nose and smiled at the helpful nurse. Gus boarded the elevator quickly and cringed as the old device creaked it's way up four floors before jerking to a stop and the doors squeaked open.

The first thing Gus saw was the officer that was supposed to be guarding outside of Buzz McNab's room unconscious, with the officer from Shawn's room standing over his still body. Gasping, Gus took off running, by-passing the ongoing scene of officers, and skidded into Shawn's room.

His best friend was lying peacefully in bed, oblivious to anything. However the woman that was supposed to be watching over Shawn was nowhere in sight. Gus swallowed hard, as he glanced into the bathroom. Stomach rolled at the stench that permeated the air. On the floor was a slight mixture of vomit and blood, but no Juliet. Turning back to Shawn, Gus spotted a piece of paper on his best friend's still form. Racing forward, he swallowed around the lump that had settled into his throat.

_**I got the pretty blond detective. She will die, unless I get a conscious Spencer. **_

Gus ran a hand over his bald head, before pulling out his cellphone. Lassiter was going to be pissed.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Oh yeah! It's update time. I am currently working on chapter twelve. It is being very very slow in wanting to come out. I am so very hoping to have it done by Wed, because I am leaving town on Thursday and won't be back until Sunday, and I have to get it beta'd before I can post it. So wish me luck on getting chapter twelve and everyone involved to cooperate.**

* * *

Lassiter's strides were quick and fast. The station was only ten minutes away from Loretta Marshall's house. A ten minute drive, and a mere five minutes into that drive Lassiter received a frantic phone from Burton Guster. He claimed that Juliet had been kidnapped—was being held ransom for Spencer. What Lassiter didn't understand was why Garrett Marshall hadn't just taken Shawn when he had gotten into the room.

Turning abruptly into Spencer's hospital room. Shawn's complexion was ghastly. A near pasty white, a breathing tube was sticking out of his mouth. Not even a flutter of his eyes. Lassiter was immediately unnerved. Shawn Spencer was generally a giant thorn in Lassiter's side. Right now, Lassiter just felt sorry for him.

Quickly, Lassiter averted his attention as he sought out the person he was looking for. "Guster. Explain to me, what exactly happened."

Gus nodded. His attention stuck on Shawn's pale face. "I got to the room, Shawn was in the bed but Juliet was missing. There is a mess in there." Gus jerked his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the bathroom. "I found a note that said that he'd kill Juliet unless a conscious Shawn was turned over to him."

Lassiter sighed, his hand rubbing his face uncomfortably. Out of the corner of his eye he watched his new partner walk over to the bathroom door and open it. A gag erupted out of the man's mouth. "I swear to God. You contaminate my crime scene and I will have your badge." The man nodded as he moved toward the waste basket beside Gus and quickly expelled the contents of his stomach. Gus's face paled considerably, as a hand touched his weak stomach. "That goes for you too, Guster." Gus nodded. "Now, I am going to go find the numbnuts that was supposed to be watching Spencer's room. This room better be puke free when I get back. Well—except for the puke in there."

Detective Larson nodded, as he wiped off his mouth. Gus held up a hand in understanding, as his eyes were squeezed shut as he fought off his own battle with his stomach.

* * *

Buzz McNab threw his legs over the side of his bed and attempted to stand up. Chief Karen Vick put a hand on his shoulder and shook her head.

"No." The one word was more authoritative than anything else she could have said, and she knew it.

McNab looked at her helplessly. An out of place frown etched itself on the generally happy officer's face. "But—Detective Spencer is missing."

Karen Vick sighed, as she sat back down beside McNab's bed. Running a hand over her face for a moment, she looked back up at Buzz. "I know, Officer McNab, and I thank you for wanting to jump up to help her. However, you will only slow down our investigation, due to your injuries. It is best suited for you to stay here, in the hospital, and get better."

Buzz nodded, and hissed at the pain that accumulated at his temples. Placing a finger against his temple, he sighed. "I understand, Ma'am."

Vick smiled softly, then rose to her feet at the sound of commotion coming from outside of the door. Walking toward the door, the yelling got louder. Poking her head out the door, Karen Vick frowned deeply. "What is going on out here?" She stepped out of McNab's room and shut the door behind her.

"I was trying to get information out of twiddle-freaking-Dee out here."

Vick scowled at both, Detective Lassiter and Officer Michaelson. "Listen here, both of you. I have an injured officer just behind that door, who is still recovering from the after-effects of a pretty serious concussion. You will take this conversation elsewhere." Both Lassiter and Michaelson turned to leave. "Detective Lassiter, a moment please?"

Carlton stopped on his heel and turned back his superior. "Yes, chief?"

Chief Vick placed her hands on her hips. "I've talked with Mr. Spencer's doctor. Though he greatly advises against waking Shawn from his medically induced coma, he is willing to do it. I want you in the room when Mr. Spencer wakes up, and you are to insure that he stays calm."

Carlton nodded, his teeth clenched tightly. It was like he was in charge of a growing idiot parade, and their king was about to be awoken. "Yes, Ma'am." Carlton uttered through clenched teeth.

"Dismissed."

Carlton nodded his head before following Officer Michaelson a few feet from Buzz McNab's hospital room. Placing a halting hand on Curtis Michaelson's shoulder, Lassiter pointed at him. "I have to go into Spencer's room and wait for him to wake up. I want you to write down, in as much detail as humanly possible, exactly what happened—when and how. I want to know both, how Garrett Marshall got into Spencer's room, and how he escaped with Detective O'Hara in tote, without you noticing. Do you hear me, Officer Michaelson?"

Curtis Michaelson nodded his head. "Yes, Detective Lassiter."

"Good. Now, if you'll excuse me."

* * *

Carlton Lassiter stood on one side of Shawn's bed with Gus on the other side. Both leaned in slightly, even if the doctor said it could be fifteen minutes to a half hour before Shawn was fully conscious and aware. An eye twitch here and a groan there were the first signs of life coming from Shawn. Soon after a hand or foot twitch joined in, until nearly twenty minutes after he was taken off the medication that was keeping him in pain-free sleep, Shawn Spencer's eyes twitched before blinking open.

His eyes felt glazed over, like he had been asleep for years. His brain felt incredibly sluggish and even with his eyes being blurry, the stunning white walls and the overly clean smell immediately registered in his brain as belonging to a hospital. His mind was a muddled mess as he tried to remember what exactly had landed him into the hospital. Slowly he was able to make some sort of sense of his memories, sorting them into correct categories. He wasn't in intense blinding pain, and some faraway memory helped his sort the maniac stabbing as a past event. Then there was a bloody mess—and-suddenly the past twenty-four came crashing down on him in a debilitating way. He couldn't breath. It felt like six pink elephants were sitting on top of his chest, constricting his already pain-filled lungs.

"Breathe, Spencer. Dammit, breathe!"

The voice sounded so familiar, but at the current moment Shawn was having a great deal of trouble placing it. Which only caused him even more trouble breathing. Panic filled his lungs and he was automatically remembering the first time he had a panic attack. He had passed out from sheer lack of breathing. Someone obviously did not want that to happen, so Shawn tried his absolute hardest to suck in a dry, shaky breathing through his throbbing ribcage.

"Don't yell at him, Lassiter! It'll only make it worse! Just breath easy, Shawn. In through your nose, out your mouth."

The name automatically brought up a face. Carlton Lassiter. Continued hater of Shawn Spencer. The second voice needed no introduction. No matter how badly his brain was muddled, Shawn could never misplace the voice of his best friend.

"Gus." His voice was a dry rasp, and suddenly he recognized the impending reason for his continued trouble with breathing. The tube bobbed back and forth with each forced breath the Shawn was able to steal. His lungs slowly stopped feeling like someone's punching bag and more like organs in his body.

"I'm right here, Shawn. Just hold still, the doctor is here now. He is going to remove the breathing tube."

Shawn merely nodded his head and hissed at the pain it caused. "Mr. Spencer, I'm Dr. Wingham. I need you to breath out when I tell you to, okay?" Shawn merely blinked his eyes, unwilling to be put through the torture of nodding again. "Breath out, Mr. Spencer"

Shawn did as he was told, and stared on at the tube as it was removed. Immediately after, Shawn started coughing, the force of which caused pain to erupt in his ribcage and head. He groaned as one arm draped protectively over his ribcage while the other one gripped his head.

"Here, Shawn. Suck on some of these." Shawn reached out blindly until his hand gripped the cup Gus was holding out to him. Reaching inside, Shawn dropped a couple of pieces of ice into his mouth and let the wetness go to work on taking the dry, cotton-like feeling out of his mouth and throat.

Lassiter waited a couple of seconds before leaning into Shawn's field of vision. "Spencer. How are you feeling?"

Shawn finished his piece of ice before attempting to answer. "Like I got hit by a semi-truck. How about yourself, Lassie? You look absolutely glowing."

Lassiter groaned. "Look, idiot. You have a serious head injury, but we need your help."

Shawn's eyes widen for a moment. "My hair. For the love of God!" He paused as he let his head slowly lull toward Gus, ensuring him the least amount of pain. "Gus, tell me my hair is still connected and not a horrendous mess."

Gus shook his head, before pointing at Lassiter. Suddenly it hit Shawn. Something was wrong, first off, Lassiter didn't rise to Shawn's bait, and second of all, everyone was just too damn somber for Shawn's liking.

"What is going on?" Shawn attempted to sit up straight in his bed, to better his field of vision. The attempt was halted when his vision started to spin uncontrollably and his stomach rolled. "Hold—that—thought." Shawn grunted out as he attempted to steady his uncomfortable stomach. He quickly realized it was a lost cause, and Lassiter apparently could read his mind as a trash can was thrust into his face just as Shawn heaved uncomfortably. Groaning, Shawn leaned back against the bed. He was exhausted, but he knew he had to know what was going on. "Okay, now. What's going on?"

Lassiter sighed, unsure of how much to actually tell Shawn. "The guy that beat you up-"

Shawn huffed. "You make it sound like I'm some pushover teenager, Lassie. That guy blind-sided me. By the way, his name isn't Gary Jones. It's Garrett Marshall, Holden Marshall's son. He apparently has some daddy issues and decided to take them out on me..." Shawn paused, as he attempted to swallow around the lump that formed in his throat. "Which reminds me. He admitted to killing my dad."

Lassiter nodded. "Figured as much when I found out who he really was."

A strange look overtook Shawn's face. His brow wrinkled slightly. "Where's, Juliet?"

Lassiter sighed. "Garrett Marshall has her."

Shawn looked back and forth between Gus and Lassiter. "As in—he kidnapped her? That psychopath has my wife?"

Lassiter nodded as he ran his hand over his face. "Yes."

"He left a note." Lassiter glared at Gus.

Shawn swallowed around the lump that seemed to be growing in size. "What does he want?"

Lassiter sighed. "He wants you."

Shawn nodded. "Well then, let's get out of here."

Lassiter placed a hand on Shawn's shoulder. "I don't think so, Spencer. You have some swelling on your brain. Plus, if I let you walk out of here, I get reamed by the chief and your wife. It's a losing situation for me."

Shawn sighed. "Great. So what do you need me for?"

"We were hoping that Garrett may have given you information on his plans?"

Shawn sneered at Lassiter. "His plan was to frame me for my father's murder. When he realized that it wouldn't work, he got drunk and thought up a new plan. That plan involved killing me, but McNabby stopped that plan from coming to fruition. So I'm assuming that kidnapping Jules is his way of luring me into a trap to kill me for good. Which is fine. I would much rather take the bullet for Juliet if you don't mind."

Lassiter sighed. "Not necessary, Spencer. We're going to find my partner, alive, and we're going to bring her back. As far as Marshall goes. He can come back in a body bag for all I care." With that, Lassiter walked out of Shawn's room.

Something seemed off with Lassiter, and something was definitely off with Gus. He was fidgeting like crazy which usually meant that he was hiding something. "What's bothering you, buddy?" Shawn stared at him.

Gus coughed uncomfortably. "It's really not my place to say."

Shawn was definitely intrigued now. "Oh come on, Gus."

Sighing, Gus shifted his weight for a moment, before kicking at an imaginary clump of dirt. "It's about Juliet."

Shawn sat up straighter, ignoring the pain it caused. "Gus." Shawn's tone was a warning of what was about to go down if Gus didn't spill.

Gus glanced upward and knew it was useless to keep trying. "Juliet's pregnant, Shawn."

Shawn's eyes glazed over for a moment, before his face pinched in anger. "Get me out of here, Gus. I have a psychotic asshole to find."

* * *

**A/N: Not technically a cliffhanger, since I really didn't fix my last cliffhanger. Same rules apply. I am in hiding with my laptop until the next chapter comes out. So just-no looking for me and you might as well set any and all flaming & pointy things down. It will do you no good!**


	12. Chapter 12

"Gus, just shut the door." The words were out of her mouth as quickly as she could, before she leaned back over the toilet. Her body heaved against the unyielding wave of nausea. "Ugh. Just kill me now." Juliet groaned, as she swiped a hand against her mouth.

"Gladly." The voice that called behind her sent a chill down her spine. It was most definitely not Gus. That much she knew.

Groaning, Juliet lifted her head, pitching a glance over her shoulder. Her eyes glazed over as her mind tried to dig through the haze and figure out why his face looked so familiar. A gasp sounded, when she realized that it was Garrett Marshall. The sadistic smile on his face made her cringe. "Freeze, you bastard."

"What a mouth! A lady shouldn't talk like that."

Juliet sneered at him. "Well this lady gets pissed when people start messing with her family. You killed my husband's father and you tried to kill my husband."

Garrett's face turned a bright red. "He deserved it, dammit!" He snarled at her. "My father is dead, and it's all his fault."

Juliet was getting agitated. How dare this deranged psycho blame Shawn for his whacked out father attacking him! "Your father almost killed him!" Juliet attempted to pull herself into a standing position, but the jostling caused her stomach to roll. She fought against the nausea, but she knew it was a losing battle. She really just didn't want to turn her back on this psycho.

"You're looking a little green in the cheeks." He smiled, almost as if he was proud that Juliet was about to hurl.

"Ugh." Juliet leaned herself back over the toilet and spilled the remainder of her stomach contents into the white porcelain. She tried to keep a sideways glance on Garrett but the pain from throwing up was so severe that she allowed her eyes to close for a moment as she groaned through a couple of dry heaves. Something in the back of her mind alerted her to someone being behind her, but she forced that thought away until a blinding pain exploded in her head. Her body fell backward, away from the toilet, without her permission. Her eyes, though glassy, were able to see Garrett standing over her. He pressed a rag against her mouth, and Juliet tried her hardest to not breath in the chemical. Yet it was obvious to her that it was pointless, she would eventually have to breath, and she knew that he would be able to wait her out. One final thought entered her mind before she dragged in a ragged breath. _I am so sorry, Shawn._

* * *

Shawn ripped the hospital band from his wrist, as Gus attempted to push against his shoulder.

"No, Shawn! I will not help you escape the hospital so that you can go out there and get yourself killed!" Gus stamped his foot at the end, like a very visual exclamation point at the end of his statement.

Shawn's head whipped toward Gus, causing him to grimace. "First of all, Gus. When you stamp your foot like a little girl, it only makes me laugh. All your missing is for your hands to be on your hips, then you'll look exactly like Jules when she's pissed-" As he realized what he said, he grimaced again. "Second of all, not even you will be able to stand in my way, Gus. I am leaving this very depressing place, and I will find Juliet."

Gus sighed, but remained rooted in place. "No way, Shawn. I'll call for a nurse if I have to."

Shawn gaped at Gus for a moment. "Seriously. You're just going to stand there, holding me hostage, while some psycho has Juliet and could be doing God only knows what to her! She's pregnant, Gus. That's my little girl or boy in there."

Gus's face dropped slightly, as his arms hung loosely. Shawn eyed him carefully. Definitely will take work to get past Gus in his current state, but not impossible like before. At least in his current state. Brain damage be damned. His wife and child's life were at stake here.

"I know, Shawn, which means that you need to stay alive long enough to meet them! I can't."

Shawn groaned. "You know what? Fine, Gus. Be that way. I am leaving, with or without you. Now, you can either help me, or you can move the hell out of the way. Either way, I am up and out of here."

Gus sighed. "Fine, Shawn." Gus knew it was a losing battle from the start, he wasn't even sure why he even started to fight Shawn on it to begin with. Even before he knew that Juliet was pregnant, the first hour without any new information would have caused him to walk out of the hospital. There was no Henry here to help either. That thought made Gus frown. Almost as if he had forgotten that Shawn's father was dead. Gus knew that as soon as Shawn's adrenaline wore off, that he'd crumple in onto himself from grief, especially since Shawn hadn't had an appropriate amount of time to grieve. Which reminded him. "Hey, Shawn. Would you like me to call your mom?"

Realization flashed in his eyes, and sadness became apparent on his face. He sighed. It would be nice to have his mom around. Someone to help him through all of this, but he also knew that if she came right now that she'd stop him from finding Juliet. His eyes squeezed shut as he hefted himself up off the bed. The room spun for a moment, as Gus clamped a hand down on Shawn's arm to help steady him. His eyes opened as soon as the room stopped spinning. "You know what, Gus? That would be nice. Thank you."

Gus nodded, as he wrapped an around Shawn's back, letting his best friend lean most of his weight down on him. Carefully he guided him over to the nurses desk. Gus smiled brightly at the younger nurse.

"Mr. Spencer, what are you doing out of bed?" The younger nurse chaste him.

"I want to be released."

The nurse shook her head. "I'll have to contact your doctor. Give me a moment, and please sit down."

Gus led Shawn over to a small row of chairs and sat him down. "Shawn, I honestly don't think the doctor will release you if you can't hold yourself up."

"I think I don't give a shit. He will release me, or I'll climb out the window."

Gus laughed lightly. "Shawn, you're on the fourth floor."

Shawn shrugged. "So it'll be a bit of a drop. Anything for Jules."

Gus smiled softly. When Shawn first told Gus that he was going to ask Juliet to marry him, Gus had been worried for both of them. Shawn was not the settle down type, and Juliet always had that look that said, _I can change him_. Gus hadn't believed it to be true. Even when Shawn did go through with the wedding without one complaint of cold feet. Gus was truly happy to be proven wrong in this case, because he had never see Shawn happier. Sure their marriage was anything but perfect and Juliet learning of Shawn's lies the way that she did wasn't helpful in the least bit, but they were both fairly happy. The fact that Juliet was pregnant would only bring them more joy, so Gus couldn't blame Shawn for going to such extremes to insure that Juliet and his unborn child were safe.

"Mr. Spencer." Shawn's head whipped toward the voice and fought against the grimace from the pain it caused. "I've been told you want to be released from the hospital. Correct?"

Shawn sighed, he could tell this would not be an easy sale. Using Gus to help get himself into a standing position, he stood under his own power. He could feel his energy draining quickly. "Yes, Dr. Wingham. My wife's life is in danger, I need to find her."

The doctor simply nodded his head. "You understand that you'd be getting released without medical advice, correct?"

"Yes."

"You also understand that you have some pretty serious head trauma that could become increasingly worse if you manage to hit your head in anyway, correct?"

Shawn sighed, his legs felt like jello. "Yes, look I understand anything that could go wrong, and how it wouldn't be your fault because I'll be signing myself out AMA. This isn't my first rodeo, doc."

The doctor nodded. "I see." He frowned for a moment before looking at the younger nurse from earlier. "Draw up the papers, please." Dr. Wingham turned his attention back to the two men in front of him. "Here is some documentation on your injury. If you experience any of these serious symptoms, then I want you to return to the hospital, immediately." Though he was technically talking to Shawn, Dr. Wingham looked directly at Gus.

Gus nodded his head, as Shawn smiled. "You got it, doc."

The doctor walked over to the nurses station, pulled out a pen and signed his name. "Sign here, Mr. Spencer, and you're free to go."

Shawn crept forward, afraid if he moved to quickly his feet would fall out from under him. He reached for the pen that the doctor held out to him, before signing his name. "Great doing business, doc." With that, Shawn turned and crept toward Gus. As soon as Dr. Wingham turned to leave, Shawn leaned into Gus, who pulled his arm around Shawn's back again. "Let's go find us a psychopathic killer, Gus."

* * *

Lassiter groaned as he sifted through the file folder that he had on Garrett Marshall. None of which spoke of where exactly the sick bastard was holding his partner. In a fit of anger, Lassiter slammed the folder down onto his desk. Marshall could be doing anything to Juliet at that moment, and Lassiter couldn't even grasp onto one lead that would help him locate her any faster.

Garrett's rap-sheet was longer than the idiots life had been. Numerous counts of theft and assault. One of which involved a very large pipe that results in Garrett being charged with assault with a deadly weapon.

Lassiter already hated this guy, but seeing everything he had done over the course of his short life made his insides quiver with rage. Heaving a sigh, Lassiter booted up his computer and sat with his head in hands as he waited for the start screen to appear. This low-life had to have made some sort of mistake, and Lassiter was sure as hell going to find it. However, when he looked back at the screen, it was black. Slowly it came into focus. It wasn't his home screen, instead it was some sort of recorded footage peering into a dark and dingy basement. However, the location of the footage got lost somewhere in the back of his mind, as slowly but surely the long, blond hair of his partner came into view.

Lassiter heard a commotion over his shoulder, but his attention fully on the footage in front of him. A grinning idiot stepped in front of the camera, blocking the view to Juliet.

"Hello there, Detective Carlton Lassiter. I surely hope I have your undivided attention as I will only say this once. I want Shawn Spencer, alive and conscious. For every hour that he is not delivered to me, I will start removing parts of the lovely Juliet Spencer here, and I will send those parts to you, one by one. Of course there will come a time when the beautiful detective behind me can no longer go on, and her life will come to a tragic end. How sad." Garrett Marshall frowned at the camera. "Such a shame too! I hear that the lovely Spencer family are expecting a new arrival. I suppose that's two lives that'll come to an end instead of one."

Lassiter pushed away from his desk and stood up ready to scream at the screen version of Garrett Marshall, even if he couldn't hear him, when a loud banging behind him caused his attention to waiver slightly. Turning toward the noise, Lassiter cursed under his breath.

Shawn's face was a bright red, as his breathing came hitching from his nose. "I will kill that son of bitch. Rip him limb from limb!"

Lassiter turned back toward the screen. As Garrett started to grin. "I have it on good authority that Mr. Shawn Spencer got himself released from the hospital, so at least I know he's both awake and conscious. I assume he knows that I have his wife, and I also assume that he knows what I want. Just in case you're watching, Shawn. I want you to know just how serious I am in my threat." Garrett slowly backed away from the camera, and Shawn gasped, having missed the short few seconds of footage that had shown Juliet at the beginning. Garrett walked behind Juliet whose arms were shackled above her head. Her feet barely reaching the ground, and yet Garrett towered over her. His arm snaked around her neck, pulling her body taut against his. He whispered something into her ear, and she cringed at whatever he said. Suddenly, his free hand came up holding a knife tightly in it. Carefully, he pressed the tip of the blade against Juliet's neck. Just hard enough to draw blood, before moving the knife up to her cheek and yanking the knife roughly against her skin. Juliet cried out in pain, before his arm released her, and tiny droplets of blood dripped from the fresh wound on her cheek.

Garrett's face was suddenly in front of the camera again. "See, Shawn. No joking around here. I mean business. If you want your wife and unborn child to live through this, then I suggest you find me. You have one hour or I will be sending you a piece of your wife. Mostly likely a finger, but we'll see." Garrett smiled brightly. "Oh, and Detective Lassiter, if you show your sneering face anywhere near here, I will gut both of them. Do you hear me? No cops, Spencer. I'd hate to hurt your wife—anymore than I already have."

After that the screen went black. Lassiter peered around the room. "Tell me someone was able to track a location!"

A young officer rounded the corner. "We have a location, Detective!"

Lassiter smiled with glee at the thought of ripping that son of a bitch apart. The paper was thrust into his hands, but just as quickly as he had a hold of it, something smashed against his side hard, knocking the wind out of him. The paper fell from his hand. He bent over for a moment regaining his composure. When he looked back up, both the paper and Spencer were missing. "Son of bitch!"


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N: While I finish writing up the last chapter of this story. *Sniff* Sad, I know. I want you all to sit back and enjoy this chapter. There is a bit of humor and a whole lot of angst, and I musn't forget Shawn & Juliet WHUMP. Everyone's favorite right? **_

* * *

Juliet's head lulled forward. Quickly she jerked alert. Her vision was blurry and her head was pounding. She took in her surroundings and remembered how she had came to be in her current predicament. Her arms were aching furiously, and she was actually fearful of being released from the shackles that held her arms above her head. Fearful that she might actually collapse from lack of circulation to both her arms and legs. Her back was screaming in pain at almost the same time as her head.

Juliet knew that if she hung from her arms much longer then definite damage would be done to her shoulder joints and most likely her tendons and muscles. Nothing too serious, she could live with some arm damage. It was the lack of circulation to her arms and legs that bothered her the most. If that continued then it could lead to irreversible damage.

She sighed before whipping her head around at the sound of a door opening. The movement put strain on her already weak arms, and sent her vision spinning in uncomfortable circles, causing her already weak stomach to turn.

"Ah, Mrs. Spencer. So lovely of you to join me, again. I was a little afraid that I might've hit you a little too hard this time. Luckily that's not the case, correct?" A man came into view, a sarcastic smile was on his face as he bent toward her. "I asked you a question, Mrs. Spencer. It is best that you answer me."

Juliet sneered at the man staring at her. She wasn't going to play his game. "You killed Henry!" Her voice boomed in the dingy basement.

"Well, that didn't really answer my question, and now you're dancing around to new topics. This is upsetting. I thought perhaps we could at least play friends until your husband shows up." Juliet's eyes widen. "Just so you know, he stole evidence and I'm fairly certain is on his way here."

Juliet glared at him. "How do you even know that?"

"Let's leave it at, I know people. Alright, sugar?"

Juliet glared at him. "You can stop with the sickening pet names. I don't even let Shawn say them, and I like him. What do you think that means I feel about you?"

Garrett laughed, and it unnerved Juliet. She was expecting many things at that comment, however, laughter was not one of those things. "Oh, I'm fairly certain you're not real fond of me. It's all good though, Juliet. We don't have to be friends. It'll make it easier on me when I kill you—right in front of that husband of yours—right before I kill him."

Juliet lunged forward only to be jerked back by her shackles. "You sick son of a bitch! You leave him alone! You hear me? Leave my husband alone!"

"And what about your baby? Shall I leave your unborn child alone? I'm kind of new to the whole murder and torture thing, but I'm pretty sure that I can figure out a way to ensure you live but your child dies. Is that what you want? Huh? You stupid little bitch!" Garrett grabbed a hold of Juliet's hair and pulled her head back. Her mind flashed back to when the camera was glaring at her and Garrett had held that knife to her neck and her cheek. The blood was dried. It had long since stopped dripping down her face.

"Alright. Fine. I'll do whatever you want. Just—God! Please don't hurt my baby." His words from earlier came back into her mind. She was angry again. "Then again, it's not like you plan on letting me walk out of here."

Garrett chuckled against her neck. "You got a point there sweetheart. Suppose that threat backfired, right?"

He laughed harder as he disappeared from sight. "I'll be back in a few, darling. I'm expecting your husband here soon, don't wanna keep him waiting, do I?"

* * *

Shawn watched as the taxi driver pulled over to the curb. A determined look etched on Shawn's face. Shawn threw some cash over at the driver, "Thank you." Then he climbed from the car. The information was on the sheet of paper stuck in his back pocket, but he didn't need to look at it. The entire sheet was ingrained in his memory, and a snarky smile crossed his lips when he located the correct house. "Of course it would be this house." Shawn's eyes rolled, as he edged his way onto the side lawn of a house that he would never forget.

Shawn was nearly certain that the blood stains would have been removed by now. Yet, he would never forget them. Holden Marshall's house sat directly in front of him. Edging his way up to the side of the house, he groaned. He spotted Garrett Marshall sitting in a chair right by the side window. From his vantage point, he'd spot Shawn if he went through the front or around to the back.

Steeling himself, Shawn marched forward toward the front. Easier to get this over with. With his shoulders straight, and a rare serious look on Shawn's face, he shoved the front door open and stepped inside.

"How nice of you to make it, Shawn. I don't like waiting. You made me wait quite a while. You will pay for that, but let's get started. Shall we?"

Shawn glared at Garrett. "Real original, Garrett. Bringing me back to the scene of my own near death experience. Thank you for that, by the way."

Garrett chortled. "Whine a little, why don't you. This is where my father died. Do you understand that! Do you even care!" Garrett's finger was pointing at Shawn as he stalked toward him.

"You know what, Garrett? I really don't. Considering your crazy-ass father tried to kill me, I'm kind of glad that he is dead."

Garrett growled as he jerked his arm forward, elbowing Shawn in the stomach. Shawn doubled over, groaning. "Guh!"

"Move it, lover-boy, before I push you down the damned stairs!" Garrett motioned toward the open door leading down to a darkened room.

With his body still bent at the waist, while recovering from the cheap shot to his stomach, Shawn walked forward at a slightly faster than snail's pace.

"If you don't pick up the speed, Shawn-" The tone that came from behind him was deadly serious, and though Shawn knew he wasn't walking out of this place, he at least wanted the chance to see Juliet again. So he straightened his back, and groaned at the pain pulling in his stomach. Marching forward, Shawn paused for a split second, but it was long enough for Garrett to lose his patience altogether and shove Shawn forward. Tripping over his own feet, Shawn rolled down the stairs. Barks of pain came from his mouth as he tumbled all the way down. He flipped over the last step and felt as his back and head connected with the brick wall behind him. His vision grayed for a moment before the lights went completely out, and Shawn's body slumped forward.

* * *

Lassiter glared at the computer screen. His head lulled forward. The one lead that would send him to save his partner was stolen by an idiot that was supposed to still be in the hospital!

"Detective." Lassiter's head snapped up. Twenty minutes had passed since Spencer had taken off with information he wasn't even supposed to have.

"Yes?" Called out, looking up and staring at Officer Garrison.

"They were able to rework the program. They were able to get partial information back. It's not an exact location, but it's close."

Lassiter stood up, and followed Officer Garrison, he'd be damned to have someone steal his lead again. His long strides pulled him ahead of Officer Garrison by a couple of steps. Pushing ahead, Lassiter shoved the door open to the forensics lab. The geek squad is what he liked to refer to them as, since each and every one them enjoyed sitting with their noses pressed against a computer screen, all day—everyday.

"What do you guys have?" His hand was outstretched as a piece of paper was pressed into it. Looking down, Lassiter's brow furrowed. The street names seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Sighing, Lassiter turned on his heel without so much as a thank you, and headed back toward his desk. His new partner was sitting in Juliet's seat, typing away on her computer. The scene caused his anger to peak. Slamming the paper down, making sure that his hand smacked hard against the surface, Lassiter clicked a few buttons on the keyboard before pulling up a map of the greater Santa Barbara area. He pinpointed the general location on the map, and squinted. The information was on the tip of his tongue and refused to make itself known.

Groaning, Lassiter typed in the area in a search box and did a search for recent crimes over the last year. Something about that area was nagging at him. Lassiter knew that whatever was nagging him was important to where it was Juliet was being held. A quick search had him backtracked by five months when it hit him.

"Son of a bitch! You sick little bastard." Every head in the station turned toward Lassiter. "For the sweet love of justice, get back to work." He paused, as he started to put on his suit jacket. "Larson, let's go!"

"Wait, he's my best friend and so is she. If you know where they are, then I have every reason to go with you!"

Lassiter spun toward Gus's voice. He had been sure that Guster had left not too long after Spencer did his disappearing trick. "No way, Guster. This guy is unstable. I don't need to have to worry about you getting shot on top of Spencer and Juliet."

Gus glared. "I will wait in the damn car, but I am going." Gus stood his ground and Lassiter sighed. He knew that the idiot would follow him anyway. Best that Lassiter be able to actually keep track of him.

"Fine, but you don't move until I tell you." Lassiter moved toward the chief's office. "Got a location on the two Spencers."

Chief Vick stood up and walked toward him. "You and Larson head out. I'll follow with backup." She waited until Lassiter was walking away. "Alright people, you heard him. Let's go." Numerous officers and a couple of other detectives stood up and followed her out of the building.

* * *

Shawn groaned. With his eyes tightly screwed shut, he tried to remember where he was and why exactly he was in so much pain. Why did it feel like his brain was full of mush? Bits and pieces came back to him. So much pain in his stomach that resulted in being in the hospital. That wasn't right. His head hurt, not his stomach. Then there was a holding cell and someone kicked him. Possibly, but he felt like that wasn't the correct reason. Suddenly his eyes sprang open. Everything came flooding back to him, just as his eyes settled on the sobbing figure in front of him.

"Jules." It was merely a whisper. He couldn't force his voice any louder. Plus he didn't want to alert Garrett to his awaken state. Not yet.

Juliet's head lifted at the sound. "Shawn." Her voice mirrored his.

He offered her a smile. "How are you?"

She sighed, it sounded almost relieved. "My arms hurt, but I'm okay."

Shawn noted the dried blood on her cheek from the video footage. It made him sick to even look at it. He turned his head abruptly. "The baby?" He asked.

"I think that we're both okay—for now."

Shawn's head snapped back toward her, he grimaced at the overwhelming pain that flared behind his temples. "Guh!" He screamed, hating himself for being so loud. He could hear Garrett moving around upstairs. He was running out of alone time. "Don't say that!" He spat through gritted teeth.

"Ah, Shawn. You're awake. I was fearful that you might have caused some real damage to yourself with that spill you took."

Shawn glared at the stairs that Garrett was still descending. "You pushed me, you sick freak!"

"Hey now! With the name calling. That's not very nice, Shawn. It's actually a little hurtful."

Shawn continued to glare as Garrett came into view. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt the little weirdo's feelings? Damn. Now I feel bad—wait a minute-wait for iiiiiiitttttt! No I don't." Shawn smiled mockingly up at Garrett.

Garrett growled, before drawing back his fist and punching Shawn in the face. "Shut the hell up!"

Shawn groaned. He could feel blood trickle from his lip, though he was more worried about the ringing in his ears. The word _brain damage_ flashed brightly in his mind. Shoving that thought to the very back of his mind, Shawn glanced back up at Garrett. "You punch like a girl. Actually, that is an insult to girls everywhere. Jules can punch harder than that. It's so sad that you're such a pussy. I mean, really."

Garrett glared at Shawn, before walking over to Juliet. Pulling his arm back he slapped Juliet so hard in the face that her body whipped sideways. She cried out in pain, and as Garrett stepped back far enough for Shawn to see her, he saw a thin line of blood dripping from her lip. "Wanna keep running that mouth?" Shawn merely shook his head, his eyes blazing an apology toward Juliet, who still had tears in her eyes. "Got anything else to say, Shawn?"

Shawn glared at Garrett. "No." Shawn bit his tongue to keep all the quips from pouring out. A coppery taste filled his mouth and Shawn knew he had drew blood.

"We're gonna have some fun. Do you like to have fun, Shawn?"

Shawn smiled brightly. "Actually I do! You wanna know what I love to do? I know it's killing you! I love to take popular songs, especially rap songs, and change the lyrics to tell my life story!" Shawn only paused for a moment, as Juliet rolled her eyes and mouthed _shut up_. "You want to hear one? I know you do, who wouldn't! I call this _The Fresh Prince of Shawn-Aire, _creative, right? Here we go! _Now this is the story all about how, my life got flipped, turned upside down. I'd like to take a minute just sit right there, I'll tell you how I became the prince of Shawn-Aire. In west Santa Barbara, born and raised. On the playground was where I spent most of my days. Chillin' out, maxin', and relaxin' all cool, and shootin' some b-ball outside of school. When a couple of guys who were up to no good, started making trouble in my neighborhood. I got in one little fight and my dad got mad. He said, 'You need to grow up son, and have really cool hair!'-_"

"SHUT THE HELL UP. Holy crap, you are the most annoying person on the planet. No wonder my dad tried to kill you. Too bad he didn't finish the job! It's alright though. You sit tight, I'll kill your wife and then I'll kill you. It's as easy as pie." Garrett sneered at Shawn.

Garrett turned his back on Shawn, and was stalking toward Juliet. Shawn took the moment to reach his hands into his back pocket. Being quick and careful, Shawn pulled his pocket knife from his pocket. Carefully he opened it up, and sawed through the rope that was biting into his wrists. He heard Garrett whisper something to Juliet, and knew he was running out of time. The gun cocked, as Shawn removed the bindings completely from his wrists and sprang up out of his chair. Running forward as Garrett started to aim the loaded weapon at Juliet, Shawn wrapped his arms around Garrett's torso and tackled him to the ground. A gunshot sounded in the basement and echoed off the bare walls.

"Shawn!" Juliet called out as tears spilled down her cheeks.

* * *

_**A/N: Just remember, if you kill me-then you won't know what happens next and believe me. You WANT to know what happens next! **_


	14. Chapter 14

Lassiter's car slammed to a stop in front of a familiar house. His pulse was pounding frantically, as the sound of blood ran through his ears. His hand twitched over his gun, before he stepped out of the car. Detective Larson stood idly beside the car, glaring at the house before looking at Lassiter.

"Should we wait for backup?"

Lassiter glared at his new found partner for a moment. Everything in him screamed to wait for backup. It was protocol, it was the right thing to do. Yet, the protective part of himself screamed that his pregnant partner was being held in there with a psychopath. Removing his gun from its holster, Lassiter nodded at Larson. "Let's do this."

Larson nodded, before pulling his own service weapon. They both crept forward toward the house, Lassiter on the right and Larson on the left. They halted at the door, as Lassiter counted to three before kicking in the door. They cleared the living room and kitchen with ease, before they heard an all too familiar sound.

"That was a gunshot." Larson's face turned white, as Lassiter shook his head.

The shot came from the basement. Without throwing even a backward glance toward Larson, Lassiter took off running for the door that led to the basement. Throwing it open quickly, Lassiter took the stairs two at a time until he reached the bottom. After a quick look to his left came up empty, Lassiter spun to his right, gun drawn, finger twitching over the trigger. Juliet's eyes stared at him, as tears spilled down her cheeks. After a second to recover from actually locating his partner, Lassiter jumped into detective mode and ran over to Juliet.

"He's dead. Shawn's dead."

Lassiter's eyes followed Juliet's and found two people sprawled out on the floor. A large puddle of blood spilled between the two of them. A scowl formed on his face, as he used his foot to turn over Garrett Marshall ready to put a life-ending bullet between his eyes. A gasp escaped his mouth as he stared into Garrett's glassy eyes. A bullet hole gaped in his upper torso. After staring at the lifeless body of Garrett Marshall for a moment, Lassiter quickly turned Shawn over. Though he was drenched in blood, there was no actual spot that was leaking the red substance. Kneeling over Shawn's lifeless body, Lassiter pressed two fingers to his pulse point and waited.

"He has a pulse. It's a little fast, but it's there."

He heard an audible sigh of relief before a sob tore out of Juliet's mouth.

* * *

Juliet lay in a hospital bed, though she had no actual injuries and they had already given her an ultrasound to ensure that nothing was wrong with her baby, they had explained that they had wanted to keep her overnight for observation. Juliet had thrown a fit, begging to be allowed to leave. She had to see Shawn, she had to see for herself that he was okay. That he was going to be fine. It was Gus that had eventually talked her into staying.

She had been so angry with him at first. His words upsetting her to the point that she had screamed for him to leave. She blamed it on the hormones when in reality it was more that she didn't want anyone speaking for Shawn. Even if everything that Gus had said made perfect sense, she wanted to hear Shawn say it. Juliet just needed to hear Shawn speak, see his smiling face, so that she would know for sure that he was indeed alright.

"Hey beautiful."

Juliet hadn't even realized that the door to her room had opened, she had been so deep in thought, though the voice that spoke out jarred her to the bone. Turning her head, she smiled at the sight of Shawn sitting idly by as Gus finished pushing up to the bed.

"Shawn." Her nose wrinkled at how her voice cracked on his name. Sighing, Juliet reached a hand out to grab for the water she had yet to touch.

Gus smiled softly, as he handed it to her. "I'm just gonna wait out here. The doctor's given him five minutes."

Juliet nodded, as she lifted the cup of water to her lips and took a generous sip of the cool liquid. "You should be in bed."

Shawn smiled softly as he reached out his hand to grab hers. "You're probably right, but I hear that you gave Gussy out there a hard time when he told you to listen to the doctors." His eyebrow raised questionably.

"Technically, I would still be in the hospital. I just-" She sighed.

"I know. Gus told me, but I'm fine. I swear. The doctor said that when I hit my head, it did cause the swelling to increase, but since I haven't lost consciousness since I woke up in the ambulance, that I should make a full recovery. He's just keeping me a couple of days to observe the swelling to make sure it doesn't get worse."

Juliet just nodded as she chewed on her lip. "I should have came to you. I'm not even injured!"

Shawn sighed softly. "Well, they are a little worried because of your blood pressure, babe. They're afraid if it stays up that you could become aclampic."

"You mean pre-eclampsia?"

"Technically, I've heard it both ways, but sure."

Juliet laughed lightly. "Alright. I'll stay."

Shawn nodded. "That's my girl! If they ask you to stay longer, what will you do?"

"Shawn..." Her tone was warning.

"I am not budging on this, Juliet. That's our baby and you're my wife. I will not gamble with your lives."

The sudden seriousness coming from Shawn threw her off. She had only seen this side of him a handful of times, and every-time it sent her heart sailing. "Fine."

"That's what I thought." He smiled lightly. "I better get going before I'm put on lock-down. I love you so much, Juliet."

Juliet smiled brightly. "I love you too, Shawn."

* * *

_Three Months Later_

"What about Jason? Jason Lucas?" Juliet asked lightly as she plucked another chip from her rapidly growing stomach.

"Jason Lucas? No. Definitely not. How about Alexander?"

Juliet's eyebrow lifted. That was actually a name on her list, but it peaked her interest that Shawn liked it. "Alexander? It's on my list, but I didn't think you'd like it."

Shawn smiled. "It makes him sound smart."

Juliet shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Alright, so Alexander is a maybe. How about Austin?"

"God no! I knew an Austin in school. Horrible kid. Horrible. No. Brandon Alexander—That's perfect!"

Juliet smiled. Alexander was a name they both liked, and Brandon was a cute name. "I like it."

Shawn nodded. "So—girl names." He sighed. "What do you think the chances are that little peanut in there is a girl?"

"I'm gonna say fifty-fifty, Shawn, and let me tell you. The baby is anything but little. Look at me."

Shawn smiled, his hand placed lightly against Juliet's bulging abdomen. A sinking sadness hit him suddenly as he realized that his father wouldn't even be able to meet his grandson. "Before we move onto girl names. Can we add a Henry on there?"

Juliet nodded. "Brandon Alexander Henry Spencer. It's a perfect name."

Shawn nodded. "So girl names—how about Jules?"

"No. Shawn. Just—no. I was thinking Madeleine Rose."

Shawn thought for a moment. He hadn't thought of naming his children after his parents, but somehow it just fit. "I love it."

"Good. I wasn't going to budge on that one." She smiled. "God! I'm already hungry again."

Shawn tried to not gape at her. "You just ate a whole bag of chips." He wanted to smack himself in the head for that one.

"Gee thanks, Shawn. Like I don't already feel like a big, fat, bloated cow, you just had to go pointing out how much I eat!"

Shawn backed up off the couch. "It's fine. Babe, it's perfectly natural. What do you want? I'll run out and get you whatever you want."

He heard her sigh. "I want a spicy meatball sub with mayo and ketchup and oh god! Pickles. Loads of pickles."

Shawn fought the urge to gag. "Got it. I'll just run out and grab it. You sit right there, alright?"

"I want to go, Shawn."

Shawn shook his head. "Blood pressure, babe."

"Shawn, my blood pressure is fine!" Juliet huffed, her arms hefted against her chest.

"Doctor's orders, babe. Besides it's my job to do the, you know, weird craving stuff. I totally got a laugh out of the looks I got from Jim at that Italian place down the street last week. Apparently it's not normal to want pickles on your spaghetti. I even think a woman behind me gagged when I picked up the order. Hilarious!"

"Shawn..." Juliet's voice turned whiny. "I have been stuck in this house for weeks now. I feel fine."

Shawn sighed, as the fear he was feeling showed on his face. "Yeah, Jules. You feel fine, until you don't. I can't lose you or the baby. I know that it might come down to the choice, but until then, I am completely content with having both of you. So let me do this. Besides, Jules. Someone is coming to look at my bike tomorrow. I wanna get one more good ride out of her before I give her up."

Juliet frowned. "Since when are you selling the Norton?"

Shawn laughed. "Since we're having a baby. Last time I checked, a car seat doesn't fit on the back of a motorcycle, and I'm fairly certain that it's frowned upon. It's just more economical for us to have bigger vehicle. I was looking at some minivans—stuff like that, the other day. Got some pretty weird looks." Shawn shrugged. "It's not a big deal. I'm fairly certain that getting rid of the Norton was in the deal when I got you."

Juliet laughed lightly at the memory. "I believe you said, _I've been thinking of getting a car._ Nowhere in there did it say, _I am definitely getting a car._"

Shawn smiled. "It's fine, Jules. No big deal."

"Look, I'll just trade in my car."

Shawn shook his head. "Not happening, my beautiful pumpkin doodle."

Juliet growled. "Shawn Spencer..."

"Lookie there! That's my cue. So, spicy meatball sub with-" Shawn paused, trying to hide the disgusted look on his face. "mayo and ketchup"

Juliet sighed, throwing her arms in defeat. It wasn't like she could chase him. Four months pregnant and she was already bigger than any of her sister-in-laws when they were pregnant. "Don't forget the pickles. Shawn! The pickles."

Shawn peaked around the door-frame at her, his helmet hanging loosely in his hand. "Yeah, yeah. Pickles. I got it." Pulling the door shut behind him, he grumbled for a moment. "God, that's so gross!" He smiled as Juliet yelled that she could hear him.

* * *

Shawn walked out of the sub shop, meatball sandwich in one hand and his helmet clenched in the other. A wave of dizziness hit him and he staggered for a moment. The doctor had told him that he could have some after-effects for a while. A year was passed around, as they waited for the swelling to go down. It was nearly nonexistent now, but the remaining swelling could cause him the occasional problem. Shutting his eyes against the dizziness, Shawn took a few deep breaths before peeking out through one slit eyelid. Nothing was Topsy-turvy now. Smiling triumphantly, Shawn shoved his helmet on his head and slid the handle of the sandwich bag onto his handlebars.

Straddling his bike, Shawn kick-started it. Looking behind him, Shawn took off down the road. He smiled as the wind beat against his body. It was a feeling that was hard to get used to, but once you do you never want to lose it. He let his mind roam freely as he drove down a road he had traveled many times before. He preferred the nearly deserted back roads over the traffic of the highways.

His thoughts went to his father. Shawn still didn't remember what happened in his father's house. How Garrett had gotten inside or how he had been able to get a shot off on his father. None of it really made sense, and it made him uncomfortable. More so, because he couldn't remember it. He could recall every other aspect of his life perfectly, except that.

A week after he was out of the hospital, he had called his mother. He cried while he told her that Henry was dead. How the police had thought it was him, and all about Garrett. After they both had cried for a while, Shawn told his mother that Juliet was pregnant. She had promised to come down soon, and she had arrived in Santa Barbara a week ago. Promising to help them take care of the baby, Madeleine Spencer had taken a sabbatical from work and rented a month to month apartment in the northern suburbs of Santa Barbara.

Shawn felt his eyes going glassy, and at first he thought he was crying again. Until he blinked twice and his vision didn't become any better. The road in front of him was blurry. Shawn reached for his brake, not taking in his current speed, and hit it hard. A curse escaped his lips as he was thrown over the handlebars. His head smacked the concrete with heavy force. His vision darkened before the darkness overtook him completely. Shawn Spencer's body went slack.

* * *

Juliet heard the knock on her door and grumbled. "Shawn, I told you to get what you can carry. You're riding that damn bike for god sakes!" Juliet clambered to her feet and padded toward the front door. Her mouth slack ready to yell at Shawn for taking so long with getting her food, but she stopped in her tracks. "Oh, God. Madeleine. I am so sorry-"

Madeleine held up a hand. "It's fine, dear. I was pregnant once upon a time. Hormones do horrible things to the body, if I remember correctly."

Juliet blushed. "Please come in."

Madeleine smiled brightly at her. "Thank you, dear. I'm going to guess from that outburst that my son isn't home?"

Juliet shook her head. "No. He ran out to get me some food." Juliet looked up at the clock. "He should be getting back though. Then again, I'm fairly certain I scared him off. He might pitter-patter around for a bit before he comes back."

Madeleine laughed at that. "He's not the biggest fan of confrontation—unless it involved his father." Madeleine's face dropped slightly. "I miss him so much." She sighed. Madeleine was supposed to be the strong one. The one that others came to when they were having problems. Yet, she couldn't fight off the feeling that her heart was broken. It didn't matter that they weren't married any longer, she still loved that stubborn, bull headed man with everything in her.

"I think that's allowed. You were married to him, you have a child together. It's fair that you miss him, he was a big part of your life. I feel like there is a void in my life, and I didn't even know him _**that **_well. Henry was just one of those guys that filled up your life with so much happiness-" Juliet sighed as her eyes filled with tears. "It breaks my heart to see what it's doing to Shawn. God, I feel like it's my fault. I knew he didn't do it, that he didn't kill Henry. Not only is Shawn incapable of that amount of violence, but even if he was, Shawn would have never hurt Henry. They might not have been on speaking terms at the time, but Shawn loved his father." Tears slipped down her cheeks. "I think that's what hurts him the most. The fact that he believes his father died thinking that Shawn hated him. It bothers him so bad, and it doesn't help that he still can't recall what happened in that house. It's so weird, with all the hits his head took, and with the swelling, that is the only thing that he still can't remember."

Madeleine nodded her head, as she sat down next to Juliet. "Have you spoken to Shawn about this? It appears to be bothering you just as badly as it is him. I will tell you now, Juliet. Communication is the single most important thing in a marriage. When you lose that, you're on the fast track to a place you don't want to be."

Juliet nodded, as her tears slowly started to dry up. "I'm afraid. If I'm being completely honest, I'm afraid that if we talk about it and he really sees the situation, that he'll realize that it all comes back to being my fault."

Madeleine shook her head. "No matter what you think, it is not your fault. That Garrett fellow, he would have found his opportunity to harm Shawn. If it wasn't that day, it would have been a different day."

Juliet sighed. "What really bothers me, Madeline. Is that Garrett said he knew people. Which is creepy by itself, but then you have to think. How did he know that Henry and Shawn would be alone in that house? How did he know that Shawn had seen the video he had sent to Carlton's computer? None of it makes sense—unless he had help."

Madeleine had to admit that it was very unnerving. "Well, you do have a point, dear. How about we worry about that later though. Shawn tells me that you're on bed rest-"

"Urgh. I hate it. My blood pressure has been perfect for a week, and still he watches me like a hawk. It doesn't help that the doctor hasn't cleared him to work yet, since he's still having headaches and dizzy spells."

Madeline nodded her head, her eyes finding the clock as Juliet's words truly sunk in. "How long has he been gone?"

Juliet eyed the clock. "Nearly a half hour."

Suddenly both of their eyes grew wide, as Juliet reached out for her phone. Hitting the correct speed dial, she pulled the phone to her ear. "Carlton, it's Juliet. Shawn's in trouble."

* * *

Lassiter grumbled as the radio sitting on his passenger side seat crackled to life. Guster spat out random words as he was slowly losing his connection. Growling, Lassiter eyed the offending contraption. "Stupid piece of junk."

Juliet had called both, having them rush over to her house. She clambered up off the couch and waddled their way. She explained that Shawn had been gone a half hour when he had went on a sandwich run. The worst part was that Shawn had taken that death trap on wheels, knowing he was still suffering from dizzy spells.

As Lassiter continued down the road he kept his eyes peeled to both sides of the road. Juliet had explained that there were two routes he could have taken, so Gus took one and Lassiter took the other. This was exactly how he had planned on spending his evening. Groaning, Lassiter watched as his headlights flashed against something in the road. Speeding up only slightly, Lassiter saw the slack, lifeless body before he spotted the dented up motorcycle. Slamming on his brakes, Lassiter threw his car into gear and jumped out.

Running up to Shawn, Lassiter slid down to his knees and examined Shawn. The first thing he spotted sent a curse flying out his mouth. Shawn's helmet was cracked and there was some blood pooling underneath his helmet. Lassiter knew this was the worst case scenario that involved Shawn still being alive. Yanking out his phone, Lassiter called for an ambulance, before phoning Juliet.

"I found him. He wrecked his bike. It doesn't look good, Juliet. He hit his head."

* * *

Juliet paced the hallway of the hospital. She couldn't take these long waits in the cold dingy hospital waiting room anymore. This was far too many times in the last four months. She sighed and jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Juliet. You should sit down." Juliet nodded, as she followed Gus back to the chair she had been sitting in moments earlier. Two hours should be long enough to know how he is. An update, that was all she needed. A damn update, and yet here she sat, twiddling her fingers while her husband lay unconscious in some unfamiliar hospital room.

Gus poked her shoulder with his finger and nodded toward the door. A doctor was walking toward them. "Family of Shawn Spencer."

With some help from Gus, Juliet stood up and waddled up toward the doctor. "I'm his wife."

The doctor nodded. "I am going to be blunt with you, Mrs. Spencer." The doctor sighed, a sadness filled his eyes. "Shawn has experienced numerous head traumas over the past three months. One of which he was still recovering from. The blunt of the force from the accident landed directly on his head. I was told that his helmet cracked, and if that is indeed the case, you must know that it takes a lot of force to crack a motorcycle helmet..."

Juliet groaned. "Please. Just—how is he."

The doctor looked down, before looking back up. "I am sorry to inform you, but as of eleven forty-five this evening, Shawn Spencer fell into a coma. As of right now, it's unknown _**if **_or _**when**_ he'll come out of it."

Juliet stared at the doctor as he apologized again, before disappearing. Surrounding noise grew dim as Juliet's vision started to gray around the edges. Her knees buckled and Juliet fell toward the floor in a large pregnant heap. Lassiter sprang forward and caught her before she hit the floor and laid her down carefully. The news of Shawn and Juliet fainting settled in as everyone started to cry, even Lassiter stared on with tears in his eyes.

* * *

_**No killing the author. That is all.**_


End file.
